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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836080">Enemy Of My Enemy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedForAnArchangel/pseuds/StarryEyedForAnArchangel'>StarryEyedForAnArchangel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beelzebub has a lisp, Beelzebub has scars, Beelzebub wouldn't mind murdering everyone, Beelzebub’s the boss, Car Chases, Crime Scenes, Enemies to Married to Lovers, Explicit Language, For someone's sake always read my notes for warnings!!!, Gabriel is a fashion whore, Gabriel is a himbo, God is nonna, Gritty, Gun Violence, He/Him Pronouns For Gabriel (Good Omens), Human AU, I'll add more tags as i go, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQ history, Mafia AU, Mentions of WWII, Murder Mystery, Organized Crime, Other, The Plot Thickens, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), This story is kind of bloody, Thriller, Violence, Violent Deaths, but in a mob story type of way, world building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:21:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedForAnArchangel/pseuds/StarryEyedForAnArchangel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Angelo, of one of New York’s top crime families, is a sharply dressed, pompous man on his way to be the next family head. He’s careful in his steps and a stone-cold killer always looking for ways to take his disowned brother, Luc, and his lot down a peg. His constant obstacle in his way? Beelzebub Prince. </p><p>Prince is not that different than Gabriel, always trying to keep power under their thumb. And, much to Gabriel’s chagrin, a snazzy dresser that crosses boundaries that are usually seen as taboo for one once deemed a principessa mafiosa. They are as quick of wit as they are with their gun and care less about pretenses and niceties that are still expected of people of their station. But that seems to be the same of near all of Lucifer Mattina’s clan. </p><p>What could make these two work together?  </p><p>A dark shadow that haunts all mafia families, preying on their most vulnerable. A shadow that haunts both Angelo’s and Prince’s past, more than it has most, leaving a different type of scarring on each.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub &amp; Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub &amp; Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Early hinted at, Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Ligur/Michael (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ineffable Meetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebony_dove/gifts">ebony_dove</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well. Hello all. As my own nana would say, step into my office. </p><p>Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other in this way.  </p><p>Okay enough of being dumb, I’m feeling both lost and also kind of giddy because I’m going to be writing two stories at once and I’m certain chaos is certain. This is a human mafia au. Things are going to be slightly skewed for reasons, but I will try to back up things in a possible way. There is a lot that’s going to go on in here.  </p><p>Long story short, this is the magnificent fault of one of the IB discords I’m on and the prompt theme of November (lol two days late) was Mafia au. So here I am because a few days ago I had a bit of a thought. I like these two idiots together, but if they’re on opposing sides it’s hard to get them to fuck around. So I thought of a fun(terrible) way to get them to fuck around.  </p><p>This is not going to be like A Special Kind Of Hell arcs at all. So no soul crushing things. Just a lot of vengeance, fighting, and minor angst. And plenty of consensual smut!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel’s been sent to take a breather by his nonna after stress got the better of him down at the docks, over a routine deal. There he runs into someone that only further disrupts his calm, willing to tear it up in little slices.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a lot of beginning stuff, laying down facts. The first part is very text heavy. Maybe because I'm an asshole or maybe because I keep trying to world build. Maybe both. Who knows at this point.</p><p>Minor mentions of blood and vague mentions of an attack, child deaths, near death experience, execution style deaths at a pier after an attack.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel Angelo took his plush seat on the corded off, private balcony by the stage of the New Century Theatre. He had been sent by his nonna to go down and “enjoy something nice for a change.” Claiming her little angel was getting too wound up over business after punching out a clueless associate after he failed to deliver the proper shipment. He found that ridiculous as the order was extremely important to business – of which his nonna knew the exacts of and how bad it would be for it to get in the hands of another – and integral to get his hands on before anyone else did.  </p><p>Artillery didn’t just go ‘poof’ into thin air, as though by some miracle.  </p><p>So he thought his reaction was juste and fine. Everyone else seemed to think the same way. Hell! His sister, Michael, had been skirting round trying to pull information from her informants to find out if anyone else had caught wind MINUTES after the cargo container was opened at the dock. She knew what was up.  </p><p>Gabriel, not being a slouch on the details or work, personally took the person he punched and had a good ol’ one on one with him. Took his time. Gabriel asked just as nicely as anyone would who may have potentially intercepted the goods. He wasn’t rude and asked if someone made him an offer the poor guy just couldn’t refuse.  </p><p>Not at first.  </p><p>That took a while to start asking, he had to warm up to the fella. Gabriel asked a few other very specific questions and then let the man stew for a while. It wasn’t until Angelo was certain his associate’s work clothes were saturated and his voice was hoarse that it was acceptable to start asking. Just like any responsible, reasonable man would!  </p><p>But take a load off, Gabriel did. He didn’t want to incur the wrath of nonna. She was who he, and every member of his family, got most of their tempers and mannerisms from. Her little angels all knew that no one was exempt from her anger too, and that her form of punishment was akin to God’s and probably knew less mercy. </p><p>Gabriel had once been under the pressure of a minor but still grievous punishment, despite his position. So, he was going to do whatever nonna told him to do after having the taste of that.  </p><p>Of course, he had been lucky in comparison to his eldest brother, Michael’s twin, and the one who was MEANT to be next in line for the Angelo’s next head of the family. That fall was unpleasant and a dark mark in their history. </p><p>Luc, the apple of his nonna’s eye, her shining one who could do no wrong. And yet he did. Luci did something so terrible he wasn’t just disowned from the family. He somehow survived the attack he had led on the Angelo’s biggest meet of the year, during Christmas of all times, with a few of the family’s own that he had tempted and bent to his way of thinking to follow him.  </p><p>Tried to gun down everyone and everything. Killed nonno and a few of the family’s finest men all so he could take over. Gabriel didn’t remember much of the fight. So much had happened so quickly. Gabriel did his part to take down as many as possible, but when threat came to their grandmother, he took the bullet for her. Right to the back, puncturing his lungs almost too close to his heart. Doc’s said it was a miracle he was alive.  </p><p>What he heard happened after was that it was Michael to deal the near fatal blow to Luc. Barreled into him, chased him down after a grappling fight that he wormed his way out of after stabbing her in the side, but that wasn’t enough to take her down. She followed him to the docks just outside the warehouse they had held things in, shot him up til he fell back into the frigid water of the Hudson.  </p><p>His followers were dealt with accordingly and dumped of the same pier as their wished for master. It became known as ‘The Falling,’ to those of all the crime families. Anyone who was anyone knew about the bloody massacre.  </p><p>And Gabriel’s grandmother, nonna, was said to have been the one to handle every last execution. Shooting each snarling bastard after asking each if they understood their crimes. At least that’s what most people told him happened.  </p><p>Everyone had assumed he had perished in the icy waters of December, the men who went to Michael’s aid had sent many to check. Gabriel was out for the first few days of them dragging for the body, but nothing was found.  </p><p>The police tried to take charge because it was quick to discover the docks running red with blood from the execution style examples that were made of the leftovers who were pushed in after Luci. It was a MESS.  </p><p>Months passed and it was assumed Luci was dead. </p><p>That was the kicker though. The most unnerving thing that was said to have happened was not the terrifying, though deserved, retaliation from their little nonna – who was no stranger to the crime world – but was that some of the men she shot down that day...survived. Not all. Just a few. Luci too... </p><p>And he became twisted between the time he rose from the dark waters of the Hudson and carved out his own little hole in the crime world.  </p><p>He didn’t make his first appearance til about six years later. Six years to the day that many called “the day that angels wept,” renamed as Lucifer Mattina, or Mr. Morningstar.  </p><p>It should have been a quick connection, but he had steered clear of his former family, skirted physical appearances the way Michael kept clean cut to the outside world and calculating and cold in the shadows. The “Mattina” family, as his group was often referred to as, kept their noses clear of the Angelos as though bidding their time, growing bigger and recruiting loose canons that many kept clear of even in the underworld. The stories Gabriel HEARD could send shivers down his spine... </p><p>Even after meeting them for the first time. It simply added to the sucker punch feeling when they all found out who was the mastermind behind the elusive family.  </p><p>Gabriel couldn’t help thinking how much alike his poor sister was still like Luci, but she was loyal to the family like no other. Hurt by Luci like no other. So, Gabriel swore to protect her as best he could. (Not that he thought she needed protection, he knew she could handle her own, but she was his sister and precious to him.) Lucifer was a darkness to the Angelo family’s heart, a well-known secret, and that darkness liked to have claws sunk in. </p><p>It seemed like after Lucifer revealed himself he was EVERYWHERE. Took over or putting himself between long-standing deals with other families and business, trying to build a monopoly on places that the Angelo family either once held or had their eyes on. It was a never-ending battle. It did lead to a good old shoot out from time to time. One family would hit one hideout, the other would retaliate on a stronghold. Lucifer’s faction would often be more frightening as they would have little regard for those not affiliated with any syndicate. Casualties would be too great and law enforcement would end up with a few other dead men if they tried to get into it with the Mattina family or would be in Luc’s pocket.  </p><p>His people tempted well as Gabriel’s family would try to influence in their own way. However, Lucifer had his ways and little regard for anyone but himself.  </p><p>Lucifer’s men each had their own diabolical ways.  </p><p>And that night, of all nights, some of his brother’s most ruthless wayward people were slipping out and ruining what was meant to be a relaxing evening for Gabriel to take the edge off. Luci’s right hand was sat in the opposite balcony, with most of their trusted little minions. This particular night goblin that held rule over many of Lucifer’s assets certainly knew how to wield their claws and tongue to get what they wanted.  </p><p>They were known as The Prince. Lord of the Underworld. Also known by authorities and said underworld as Beelzebub, taking the name from the bible, just as most everyone else in the infamous Mattina family did when inducted. They were short and thin, petite, and their equally short hair would fall from their perfectly coifed curls and fly wild and ragged when in a shoot-out, their usually bored blue eyes would freeze to ice.  </p><p>Gabriel glared out over at the occupants on the other side of the theatre and knew that most had taken note of him. That smallest being though, the one who he thought probably did more than simply rule at Luci’s side, didn’t seem to care. They lay catawampus in their seat, their head and shoulders barely visible over the guard rail of their balcony. The bastard even kept their hat on low over their eyes.  </p><p>The very lazy image of them, probably letting their delicate legs sprawl before their seat and their weirdly tailored fedora with two red hat pins stuck towards the front and tailed by white contrasting feathers, like wings, really irked Gabriel. That and the fact that he couldn’t tell where their own opulently colored eyes were. For all Angelo knew they could have been laying a mental bull’s eye on him. He’d seen enough of their exploits to know that, despite looking like they moved like molasses, this being was a little demon that was quick as the darkness that consumed the very light. </p><p>They were fierce when it came to fighting. Seeming to be the quickest to react to a threat, destroying attackers, and fierce when it came to retaliation. Beelzebub was feared for their bloodthirsty killing, and equally so for their sharp wit in handling the dismantling of oppositions and running their own faction of organized crime.  </p><p>Many made the mistake of treating them like those of the same sex they assumed Beelzebub was, but they would be wrong. Beelzebub, sometimes simply called “boss,” or by those closest in their circle “Bell,” wasn’t a woman nor were they a man. Some people called them “it,” but those who did to their face didn’t usually leave without a broken nose or a new hole in their body.  </p><p>“Monster” was sometimes their designation too, and that one would earn a wicked little sharp smile that would fit the moniker. </p><p>They were called monster, not only for their deadliness, but for other things. They were no beauty, though one could see they were meant to be. They were scarred across the bridge of their nose and into the groove of their apple-y cheek, a small dip of cuts above their brow on their right side. Then there were scars on their neck. That was just what could be seen and Gabirel didn’t know what lay hidden beneath their dark suits, but it was widely known that there were two long gashes that were carved into their back, just over their shoulder blades. As though someone had dug out wings. </p><p>They had been left for dead in a tub just before their twentieth birthday. Mother shot in the head, two little brothers suffocated in their beds. By that point it, the family murder was catalogued in a growing collection of similar deaths. All crime families feared the scene as it had played out in a similar fashion across each, with only one factor that remained constant.  </p><p>The killers main target was always the one being that families “cherished.” </p><p>Beelzebub had been. And at the time of this heinous act they were a nobody in the crime world, innocent and kept away from the dark underworld. Taught to be a prim and proper lady, like the rest of the lambs found slaughtered. But they were the main attraction to be laid out like some untouchable that mafia members always made their women, daughters, and sisters out to be. </p><p>The one that was now referred to as a demon in disguise, had fought but were still mercilessly butchered by the being known only as ‘the shadow’ by both police and the families. They weren’t supposed to survive their massacre and some assumed it was only off of God’s will, while Beelzebub secretly believed it was that they simply sold their soul to the devil to hunt and caste down their killer. The being who had attempted to make them his next victim, who had done so to many others deemed ‘princepessa mafiosa,’ as though his goal was to shame the heads of family that they couldn’t protect those deemed most precious.  </p><p>All others before had died. Beelzebub was a mistake.  </p><p>Instead of soaking in their own bloody water, with punctures that should have been fatal, a neighbor had managed to notify authorities. Prince was pulled cold and naked from their watery grave when found. No one knew how long they had been under, and the average of twelve minutes had been passed on CPR, but they were resuscitated against all odds.  </p><p>Scarred and destroyed but it turned out they didn’t hide away.  </p><p>They hardened themself to the world around them, far too analytical and no longer caring to keep up pretenses and dove headfirst into the pits of the underworld. They worked. And slaved. And did the jobs no one else wanted to, with a shrug of their shoulders or a roll of their uncaring blue eyes.  </p><p>They were a cold-blooded killer of nightmares. </p><p>As was Angelo. </p><p>Gabriel was the exact opposite of Beelzebub Prince. Where Bee was thin and petite, Gabriel was broad and tall. Suave, perfect light hair that would only fall in a perfect little curl in front of his eyes when in a firefight. He had a strong jaw that was pleasing to follow the line of, at least according to many. His eyes were the only thing ‘wrong’ about his appearance. Wrong as in unnatural. He had the eyes that would be fitting for a demon, the color of purple gems, and the power to enchant anyone out of their panties.  </p><p>He had a real smug attitude too.  </p><p>Wasn’t afraid of using his sharp appearance to get what he wanted, either. Smooth enough to flatter his way in most places, but he could be a REAL asshole when things weren’t peachy keen.  </p><p>He served in the war, was a good, strong soldier and built like one. He was great in hand to hand combat because of his training but often able to barrel his way through his opponents, surprisingly fast in part from the military and then his younger years playing in the field for American football.  </p><p>He seemed like the picture perfect all-America fella. But he was Italian-American and mafioso to boot, so that did put a dampener on things. But with his manicured looks and equally sharp suits, and being taught to seem the most respectful and charming man, the dapper mob boy easily sweet-talked his way into many opportunities. </p><p>He was a killer, just as terrible as Beelzebub, but he preferred keeping his options open with his brilliant smile and silver tongue. Beelzebub wasn’t much of a talker unless necessary. So they made sure that they were succint and straight to the point.  </p><p>The main thing they each had in common? Aside from being what was essentially the bosses of their respective syndicates and being killers, they hated each other with a passion! </p><p>To spy the other in a territory that wasn’t theirs was few and far between, but when it did happen it usually led to fiery words or bloodshed. One time, Beelzebub punched Gabriel square in the gut far harder than he thought the diminutive demon could and ended up on his knees, embarrassing himself as he choked. Another time, Gabriel cleared a long table clean by dragging the smaller being across it by their throat. These acts varied in style and act, sometimes ending in blood spilt, but neither managed the kill. </p><p>So to see the other sitting in the playhouse on Broadway, far from either family’s territories but in their own boxes, at the New Century Theatre’s showing of Kiss Me, Kate, was more than frustrating. Luckily, they were across from each other, however, that only led to glares from one party and dismissal from the other. </p><p>The show progressed and Gabriel couldn’t enjoy what was going on below, keeping eyes on the little hellion that vexed him and their compatriots. </p><p>In their booth sat a crowd of Bell’s underlings they kept at their side. </p><p>There was Lancelot Li Greci, aka Ligur, a fine gunman and fairly fresh off the boat from the old world. Served in the war, actually in Gabriel’s unit and the two bonded as being the only two Italians in their crew, talking about food they missed and their families. However, things turned sour in the unit when Ligur was found sweet on a white girl – who turned out to be Gabriel’s sister, Mikey, but that wasn’t an issue for Gabriel – and Gabriel had tried to help get him reassigned before they were both attacked or left trapped by other squad members. Gabriel for backing Ligur, and the whole Italian thing, and Ligur for being Black and Italian and the aforementioned reason, a very deadly combination for him.  </p><p>When Gabriel found Li Greci again he was heartbroken to learn he had gone off to the Mattina family.  </p><p>They steered clear of each other but Gabriel had always wished Ligur would turn cheek and realign with his side – the right side – but it didn’t seem probable. Especially if what he had heard about the pale fella on his left was anything to go by.  </p><p>Henry Hastur. Cruel and crude and no else wanted him. He was a character. Did a lot of work with incendiaries and was too often caught up in arson cases. He was also said to be Ligur’s partner in more ways than one. </p><p>He gave Gabriel the creeps simply because of his dead glare that matched shell shocked men in the foxholes… </p><p>There was a semi-new face, he was heard to be climbing the ranks, and keeping tricks going to keep the authorities off the scent for the most part. Kept their noses clean, so to speak. Gabriel heard he was a decent gardener, but the only relevance that held was this man, Crowley if word was right, was he kept the flower shop front running with the best flowers. Even Gabriel was impressed by them.  </p><p>Next, and closest in view was a woman with extremely pale blue eyes and deep red hair. Some would say the tall and slinky dame was Bell’s right hand, sleek and malicious and nefarious in her own right; Drucilla Devine, known as Dagon to people in the works. Organizer and keeper of the books. </p><p>She would be an excellent head to hand over or snuff out in a firefight, but Dagon was good at keeping her head on her shoulders. And just as devilish when it came to torturing others for information.  </p><p>She was said to thrive that way, bath in the sweat and blood of her victims and extract important information. There was never a soul that could take their secrets to the afterlife when Dagon was involved. </p><p>There was suspicion that the red head was Bell’s girl but it was only heresay at that point. No one touched the Prince and physical interaction between the two was unseen. With all that was heard about at least four of the five and how gay people were treated, it wouldn’t be a surprise if the group kept their heads low and were, even within the underworld. But that was strange as Gabriel in regards to Beelzebub out of all people just didn’t give a damn considering who they presented themselves as and how they lived. But it wasn’t his business. </p><p>The other running theory was Beelzebub was Lucifer’s… </p><p>It didn’t matter, Gabriel just couldn’t do more than glare at the attendees in the other booth, disrupting the night with their very existence.  </p><p>He watched as Beelzebub remained unmoving through the performance. They looked uncaring and almost like they could fall asleep.  </p><p>Even from the distance between the two, Gabriel could see the bruising that seemed permanent under their pretty blue eyes. The fatigue just couldn’t be hidden by their scars that riddled their face.  </p><p>At intermission Gabriel got up to get a drink and send his uncle, Sandy, and his boys to do a sweep of the perimeter. He could keep his own nose clean for the time being.  </p><p>He did not expect to have his foot nearly stomped across by an angry short goblin.  </p><p>“Hey! Watchit!” He shouted as he sloshed his drink down his very fine Dunne &amp; Co double-breasted suit.  </p><p>The tiny fiery cloud didn’t even turn round to acknowledge him, hands jammed in their coat pockets.  </p><p>“Hey! I’m talking to you, slick!” </p><p>“Gents, please, keep your voices down.” </p><p>“I will, when he apologizes.” He chased the slightly faster being in their pin-striped suit down the corridor through the crowd until they made it almost to the restrooms. Gabriel grabbed them by the shoulder but ended up pushed against the wall with a switchblade pressed into his side and piercing blue gaze pinning him, shutting Angelo up.  </p><p>“My, my, Gabriel, dear, can’t be a gentleman and keep your handzz off others, I see.” </p><p>“Bee. Bella-Bee. What’s buzzing? Didn’t see you there, short stuff.” Gabriel’s face broke into a toothy grin, smug and sarcastic, as he returned the look down at them. He had them by the crook of their arms to keep them from digging the blade into him, or worse, ripping his suit. </p><p>“Fuck off, mate. Why are you following me?” </p><p>“Me? Following you? Pppfffsssh. You wish.” He shrugged, dropping his smile and appearing nonchalant when his lavender gaze seemed willing to tear holes through the fragile looking being before him. “Besides, you’re the dead hoofer who stepped on my toes.” </p><p>“You ask’en me to danze, mezzenger boy?” </p><p>Gabriel smiled down at them, but it was maliciously charming. “Sure, want to take it outside?” </p><p>The little Prince’s face finally morphed for the first time of the night and matched his in intensity, making Gabriel’s heart flutter in anticipation. “Thought you’d never ask, Love.” </p><p>“Hey! Your kind aren’t welcome in here! This is a fine establishment! Ou-Oh…” he slowed to a stop when he got a closer look at Beelzebub, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but ya gotta follow dress code and get rid of the pants.” </p><p>Gabriel’s face twisted in indignation at the man’s poor behavior. “That’s an improper way to ask someone to change. And they’re dressed in the newest cut this season; they’re properly dressed.” </p><p>
  <em>What the hell? Where did they get red pinstripes? The bastard. </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, but she’s-“ </p><p>“They’re properly dressed.” He snarled.  </p><p>“Angel, you being zweet on me?” They leaned in and Gabriel could actually smell a sweetness and musk about them that did not match up to how he imagined they would smell, an ice cold hand caressed his cheek.  </p><p>They had never touched like that before, sure the weapon against the other made things more normal for the two, but that careful hand...it was a curious thing. He briefly wondered if maybe the sweet and masculine scent was some sort of cologne they wore, or an ointment for their scars. Because their hand was just...so soft. </p><p>Softer despite what Gabriel had ever believed it to feel like, even across the scar on their palm where they had been given a faux ‘stigmata’ wound, one to match on each palm and ankle, from their mysterious attacker all those years ago. Softer than he imagined after all the blows they’ve traded with their hands balled into angry fists.  </p><p>But even their breath smelled of sweetness. Sugary, more like honey. All of it was a very jarring curious thing. And their crystal blue eyes had a harsh look to them that kept his attention completely on them, wondering if they were debating their next move or taking in his; red painted lips parted... </p><p>None of that mattered though, he had to shake off these weird thoughts to think about never again. </p><p>He jerked Bell hard as they ever so slowly dragged the blade across his taut belly with a flick of the corner of their red painted lips. It didn’t stop them though and the little demon moved further into his personal space, just into his instep, they had never been so close for such an extended period of time, it felt very intimate. Like old flames, but the type that was dangerous to touch.  </p><p>Gabriel’s mouth twitched as they pressed against him, he made their arms brace back enough that his long fingers could feel the jut of their shoulder blades pushing out. He wondered if his fingertips were close to those old scars where their ‘wings’ were carved out. If he were touching them without knowing. Their body was twisting up just to unnerve him with their proximity and their mouth lazily twisted too.  </p><p>Teasing.  </p><p>Just as they teased when their blade slipped up deftly. </p><p>He could hear the blade move expertly over the wool fibers of his suit jacket, sliding smoothly enough to make the blade sing a bit, clean and familiar.  They’d do it, Gabriel had felt the bite of their blade plenty times before.  </p><p>That mouth curled wickedly as he glared down at them, but he leaned in close. </p><p>“What’d’ya say we lose the drip and punch a hole in our dance cards, dollface?” </p><p>That one ALWAYS pissed Beelzebub to hear. At least from someone who looked like Gabriel, and he knew that. It was a low blow. And they took the bait pushing him and baring their sharp teeth in a snarl. Gabriel spun them around in his grip and started to drag them out by the scruff of their starched shirt collar, hand vice-like over their wrist that kept the blade. </p><p>Pulled so tightly in his grip he could see a peek of the damaged flesh beneath, the scars that knotted along Bell’s neck and collarbone that suggested at one point a blade had been dug in there. A glimpse more than he bargained for. He studiously ignored the question of, ‘what exactly did that fucker do to them?!’ because it wasn’t his business, and he didn’t care. </p><p>Now was relevant to him, and now he had seen a new span of their scarred flesh. </p><p>He started to call them “doll face” after the very first time he got a close enough look at their face to see that around their scars was perfectly smooth skin and they looked rather cherubic of face, like a doll really. It was his intention every time since to maim their usually frigid, uncaring exterior with his use of the phrase. </p><p>It did make him think that if they had never been scarred he’d have thought they’d be quite the looker. Cute even, especially as they seemed so petite in comparison to a lot of guys and dames. With their rather chic cat eyeliner, he could even consider them a catch. But they were the opposition and had a fatale personality dialed up to max.  </p><p>Beelzebub twisted and snarled. They punched him in the side with a right hook then swiped at him with their blade, nicking his hand and pulled away.  </p><p>As quick as a spritely creature, they were on the opposite wall and straightening the collar of their shirt, tugged their clothes straight with a frustrated grunt. Fierce eyes never left Gabriel’s face as they retied their blood red neck bow. Most would call it a pussy bow, Beelzebub didn’t often do ties or bows like the men, it should have been a more foppish look but it only made Beelzebub look more like they would use that bow to tie a knot around their intended’s neck and strangle them to death with the thick fabric (which Gabriel’s witnessed them do once during negotiations between families and someone made an attempt on Lucifer). And for a brief moment he was thankful to God above that looks couldn’t kill.  </p><p>“Touch me again and I’ll deliver that hand to your nonna, personally.” </p><p>“You touched me first, Bee.” He brushed his knuckles along his cheek where they had touched him, face grim.  </p><p>“Really are a child. Minding my own buzzzzz. Bizzzz-” Their face was scrunching up in frustration. </p><p>“You are lying and very rude.”  </p><p>“And you are inzufferable.” </p><p>“Get away from them, Archangel shithead, unless you want my foot up your ass.” </p><p>He watched as Dagon and the rest of the gang came ambling up, the atmosphere changing on recognizing who many dubbed as the Archangel of the Dawn. Dagon’s choice was the more...colorful variation. </p><p>Gabriel was heard to always make his way to his hits after the witching hour struck, just in time so the bodies would be discovered just at dawn. His calling card was lilies strewn around the body of his target. </p><p>“Boss, you okay?” Hastur asked, moving quickly to get between the two. </p><p>“Yeah, just stepped in some dog shit.” They responded, never taking their eyes off of Gabriel. “Let’zz go.” </p><p>“Where you off to, buzzzzzzy?” </p><p>“Oi, fuck off Zzandy.” Ze glared, falling back into a more uncaring state. </p><p>“Fuck me?” He retorted too quickly, seeming to miss their wording, “You should be so lucky that I would want to touch you.” </p><p>Down the opposite end came Sandalphon and Uriel, one of the orphans who ran with their crew for so long, got so good at their shot so young and good with tying up loose ends to the point that Gabriel’s nonna got them adopted by her son, Gabriel’s father, and renamed Uriel because they were the most musical of the children.  </p><p>And boy, could Uriel sing.  </p><p>Sing and make a stooly sing.  </p><p>“Sandy, that’s not nice.” Gabriel reprimanded. He didn’t tolerate that kind of talk.  </p><p>Beelzebub looked like they were going to vomit. “You would be doing me a service by not touching me.” </p><p>“Hey! Enough of that.” </p><p>“Gabriel, do you need assistance?” </p><p>“Everything’s sweet, like sunshine, but let’s not forget here, Sandy, that we should be real gents, even if others can’t be.” It was not meant to be aimed at Beelzebub, honestly he hadn’t realized his words could host a barb and cut, but Bell seemed non-plussed by his offhanded remark even as they uttered out a sarcastic coo. </p><p>“You wound me, angel.” </p><p>So instead, Gabriel covered. Toothy sarcastic grin back in place, “Not what I meant to do, dollface.” </p><p><em>Oh, if looks could kill! Could have fooled me if someone said they weren’t the very devil themself.</em> </p><p>“You’re bleeding!” Sandy gasped, pointing to his cousin’s hands and then turning his cold gaze onto Beelzebub, who simply licked at their lips and looked like they were bored. “You little scum!” </p><p>“Sandy, I’m fine.” He waved his hands, not taking his eyes off Beelzebub who rolled their eyes. But the lights flickered off and on to indicate that it was time to go back to their seats. When the lights were brought back to full he noticed the little devil was already walking back to their side of the theatre.  </p><p>“Hey, what about our dance?” </p><p>“‘Nother time, Gabe, dear. Keep a slot open for me.” They drawled without looking back, hands jammed back into the pockets of their tailored pants.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaahhhh!!!  </p><p>What am I doing?! Starry! What are you doing?! </p><p>Someone slap me.  </p><p>Okay, here are a few notes – aside from the one to say I don’t know why I’m writing more things but I love mafia stuff and the 1940s and now I have to put this out there because someone decided mafia was a good prompt for November (I’m late a day, so sue me!) – just for you. </p><p>The 1940s were hip in their own ways, not so much their racist, phobic, prejudice ways, but with their style and phrases.  </p><p>I do want to put it out there that Americans were racist af and different ethnic groups were still prejudice to each other, so I’m stretching things a bit here and there.  </p><p>The actors who play Uriel and Ligur are Black and I wouldn’t change the color of their skin or ethnic background (because that’s not okay to remove their Blackness for story, that’s very weird)(I did add/mention that Ligur is Italian too and what made Gabriel bond with him in war, where people of the same ethnic background did sometimes bond because they were othered even if they were different skin color-wise. And as far as prejudice issues that happened to Italians it was FAR LESS than the racist assaults and micro aggressions and beatings that happened to Japanese people and people of other Asian backgrounds and Black people and people indigenous to the Americas. Think more like Irish immigrants and prior to that Portuguese immigrants and so on and so forth, for whatever social/economic reasons going down at the time. The time is the late 1940s so you can put two and two together on why. Italians did get their fill of harassment, prejudice (not racism, there’s a HUGE difference that involves politics and power dynamics and what-not), which led to denial of jobs and neighborhoods getting policed differently than other communities. Ugh it’s all nasty and awful.) Black children actually had a lot of racist issues to deal with and were seen as unadoptable and if they even WERE put in the system they were (and still are) labeled as “hard-to-place.” It’s a terrible fact and I’ve researched a bit about it since I wanted to fact check the situation. Because the Angelo’s were still white but Italian, it may have been something that just happened with Uriel “falling into their lap” from off the street…but there could have been some very terrible human trafficking going on there and Uriel may or may not have been a victim. I’ve yet to decide how I’m spinning their story. I’m sorry I went dark! But when have y’all known me to sugarcoat things? </p><p>So lighter notes; words. </p><p>Not everyone is going to be familiar with some. </p><p>Punching a dance card = fighting </p><p>Associate = these are people who work WITH the family and/or are part of the family and not Italian.</p><p>Dead hoofer = bad dancer<br/>Drip = boring person</p><p>Nonna = Grandma </p><p>Nonno = Grandpa </p><p>Dollface = an attractive woman (but Gabriel is not trying to use it in a gendered way, just more so out of spite that their face is only smooth in the places around their scars). </p><p>Pussybow = it’s a necktie done with a different weight material, mostly women wore them. </p><p>Fop/foppish = pejorative word for dandy or fashion-monger </p><p>What’s buzzing? = was actually used to ask “how’re things?” Or “what’s new?” </p><p>Catawampus = lazy, leaning. </p><p>Keep a slot open = talking about that dance card again. </p><p>Dance card = people would have dance cards to reserve dances with people, this actually predates the 40s and would be used back into the 1700s and became popular in 19th century Vienna.  </p><p>Foxholes = the dug out pits soldiers would hide in during battle. </p><p>Firefights/shoot outs = gun fights </p><p>Sweet = excellent or outstanding.</p><p>I forgot to mention that the New Century Theatre was open around the time of this story's timeline. The show that they were watching was in production at the same time, I did check out the theatre's layout and dates and it's just a place I thought would be cool to add.</p><p>I THINK I listed what I wrote? I’m tired and have proofread this bitch to oblivion. My brain is done. </p><p>Please leave a comment, share what you like, I don’t know how long I’m going to make this. I don’t know what I’m doing. Someone said Mafia, my brain went MAFIA.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One For The Pier & One For The Slammer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel is distracted by a series of events that have occurred since that small run-in with the opposition, and can’t seem to shake them. It doesn’t help he’s paid an unwelcome visit. </p><p>Beelzebub is ever mysterious, giving nothing away as to what they’re thinking or planning.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>GUESS WHO’S IN THIS CHAPTER?! </p><p>Okay, I’ll not tease, and you can see if you look at tags.  </p><p>I had fun again with jargon and left notes at the end.  </p><p>Warnings include a car chase and fire fight, mention of blood (Sandy gets punched), I can’t think of anything else. SO GO! READ ON! I hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel was washing the dishes in the family restaurant, their dishwasher boy had been continually missing for a few weeks and someone had to do it, til a new one was found. Sure, Gabriel had a shit ton of paperwork to go over in the back room, but all business had to keep running. Plus, it was getting into the holiday season, and most New Yorkers liked Italian for fancier dinners around Thanksgiving and Christmas in particular. So work was going round plenty. This was just one little thing to keep the gears going in a big way. It also kept him in the green if authorities popped up after a little nobody – one who could find neither hide nor hair of a certain Thompson – was found floating down river any time soon.  </p><p>Wanted to present like, ‘here’s Gabriel Angelo. Working in the kitchen and respectable-like. Everyone saw him there.”  </p><p>But what was really on his mind was a dark-haired devil. They kept running into each other, more than usual since their run-in at the theatre. Going down the street, walking through Ozone Park, and at one point he and his cousin, Aziraphale, bumped into the small fiend as they were rounding the corner of Zira’s favorite pastry shop, De Robertis. They plowed right through them with sharp little shoulders and Aziraphale squeaked out his surprise.  </p><p>Then at the tailors... </p><p>He remembered vividly how their small frame looked in the mirror. How their back looked rigid in the looking glass behind them. How their black suspenders bisected each shoulder blade perfectly and the fabric of their pressed shirt lay taut against their body. It was a curious sight for Angelo as he’d never seen Bell in so much white and the fabric was so smooth around a body that had to have been gnarled and twisted. He wondered about those gashes that must have served for those ripped out wings again... </p><p>The notion made him shiver if he thought about it. </p><p>They were facing him, and he could see how the shirt sat on their entire figure. He was shocked to see the swell of their slight chest and how they actually stood out without their jacket on, not that he meant to look, they were just...there. And he couldn’t help but think suspenders just fit differently against breasts, because they just physically did. It was completely unanticipated and forced him to stand ever so still and watch as Bee glared over at him before grabbing their jacket back from Dagon and head out the door.  </p><p>Neither had said a word. </p><p>Another involuntary shudder ran through him as he tsked at himself.  </p><p><em>Be a fucking adult, stupid. Stop thinking about your enemy’s tits, that’s weird.</em>  </p><p>He desperately wished his mind wouldn’t wander, he was doing monotonous work and wished for paperwork instead. Anything to get his mind off his own adversary’s body! </p><p>He was grouching about his thoughts when he heard a commotion from out in the main dining hall. China broke and angry voices could be heard, causing Gabriel to wring his hands through a towel and marched out into the dining hall. What he found there was not expected. </p><p>Lucifer.  </p><p>“Hello, brother!” </p><p>And his little cronies around him, Beelzebub glowered to Lucifer’s right grunting as they whipped the blood on a white handkerchief they handed off. Sandalphon was stumbling backwards with a busted eye and lip. </p><p>“You’ll be stepping out. Right. Now.” </p><p>“Gabriel! For one always calling others rude, that’s awfully so.” He gave his best smile, one that Gabriel’s own resembled at its fakest, and ironically always made Angelo want to punch Lucifer over. “How’s nonna?” </p><p>“Get your kind and take a powder, Luci.” Gabriel moved to get between Sandy and the other’s faction. “You okay?” </p><p>“The little motorized freckle over there, just tried to sting me is all.” </p><p>“Saaannddyyyy, you smashed a bottle of good port and took a swipe at my little bug.” Luci shrugged, smile still big. “Can’t imagine nonna will be too pleased by that.” </p><p>“Shut up.” Gabriel turned back to his young uncle and slapped his shoulder. “Go clean up in back. Ladies and gents, we apologize for the shocking turn of events, just a family squabble. You’ll all get a glass of our finest wine on the house.”  </p><p>“Oooo, generous.” Dagon cooed. </p><p>“At least give a glass to the one your fat-head over there crossed.” Lucifer swaggered closer to Beelzebub and caressed their jaw, to which they let out that strange half-indulging sounding buzz before jerking their head away. “Make amends…They’re absolutely thirsting for a good blood-red wine.” </p><p>“Why would I, Luci? Yours and mine are well past amends, don’t you think?” The messenger kept that edge to his voice, the one between diplomat trying to keep hostility just below the surface with a well-oiled smile to cover. </p><p>“My brother, the fool, it’s almost Christmas. Where’s your goodwill towards men?” </p><p>Gabe smiled wider, boiling in anger, “They’re not a man.” </p><p>Instead of waiting, Bell stormed between the two adversaries and picked up a clean wine glass from the table, snatched a quickly regarded full bottle from another, popped the cork, and poured out the contents to let it spill over their fingers. All parties stared on in confused wonder at their brash actions, raised eyebrows the only thing to move in the room.  </p><p>They watched the small figure chug the expensive vintage, clearly not caring that it was. The man and his wife at whose table they stole from had already gasped at their intrusion but were now inching away. Down to the bottom half and not stopping, Beelzebub tilted all the way back to allow the red to spill down their jaw and neck, staining the collar of their white shirt, until it reached the proper amount a glass of wine should be enjoyed.  </p><p>They righted it and then took their time to roll the glass, let the smell of the grapes fill their nostrils and purred out that buzzing noise they made, looking thoroughly satisfied. They snapped their fingers and a handkerchief practically materialized in their hand. The way they wiped their slender neck and mouth clean could be seen as seductive, a finger scooping up a missed trail and Angelo watched them flick their tongue over the tip, completely oblivious to their audience. </p><p>Many people’s faces twisted in not so veiled disgust but there were some who’s attention was held in some sort of bewitched fascination by this strange uncaring creature. </p><p>Gabe gulped and had to blink a few times, and noticed no one said a word til Lucifer broke in with a, “Well then…” </p><p>“Thought you paid your people enough to enjoy the finer things in life, Luc. Did you bring out the kiddies and wife to enjoy scraps? We’ll serve you out back, by the dumpsters.” </p><p>“Gabriel, dear, don’t be an arse...” Foot falls were heard and the place was suddenly swarming with the fuzz. “We’re here to take out the trazzh for you.” </p><p>“Come on, aren’t you nonna’s messenger or what-not, Gabey?” Lucifer asked, nonchalantly despite the raucous, “We come baring ‘good tidings’ to you, so don’t be mean.” </p><p>The barrage of uniformed men that rushed in, making diners nervously get to their feet and leave. Gabriel’s face scrunched in frustration, murder on his mind, but there was little he could do, he raised his arms and gave one of his best smiles. “What can I do for you gentlemen? A cup of coffee?” </p><p>Shit. There was that dumbass, Sergeant Shadwell, who Gabriel thought was in nobodies' pocket and cantankerous. He was pushing people out of the establishment, hollering at everyone. Not good for business. </p><p>
  <em>Isnt’ that fuck retired? </em>
</p><p>The old man forced his way through the younger chaps into the back, Angelo grimaced as he heard plates crashing and shouts from who he was certain sounded like Jerahmeel, aka Jerry the Merciful round the spheres. He was the kinder one of the family and tended to do more of the cover-up footwork, rather than the killing. He had it in him to do it, that wasn’t why he was called the merciful; it was because he made the most mercifully quick and clean deaths out of the gang. Sometimes, he’d even corner his hit and ask – if the person wasn’t too bad a dope – what was the one way they’d rather not die, and ‘save’ them from such a fate by killing them in another way.  </p><p>Out from the back, he was dragged trying to jerk out of his captures grip and shouting.  </p><p>“Gabriel! What’s going on?! I didn’t do anything!” </p><p>“In the dark lord’s name, He did.” Henry Hastur pipped in around the smoke between his lips. Gabriel briefly wondered if that dunce ever went without one but was quickly brought back to the present predicament. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Jerry. Go with the nice boys in blue and I’ll get this sorted out in no time.” </p><p>“Satan willing, you won’t.”Ligur nipped in. </p><p>He heard Sandy in his ear asking, “Gabriel, you gonna call Raguel? I can make the call for you.” and Gabriel kept the smile on his face and did not roll his eyes. </p><p>“Gabriel Angelo! What a surprise to see you here in this fine establishment.” Came the voice of the man Gabriel realized must have been behind the snatching. “Were you on spud duty, you’re all sudsy.” </p><p>“Levi, been a while, buddy. Didn’t think you had time for housecalls.” </p><p>“Yeah, gotta good tip from Drucilla, says she’s seen that dreamboat over there’s escorting a missing soldier around the docks.” He said with a smile. “Sorta strange so close to Christmas to be down at the pier.” </p><p>“Sure Ms. Devine saw him? Or is this news from a ‘friend of a friend?’” Gabriel asked, with a snarky smile, forgetting his hands were in the air. </p><p>“It’s what I heard, messenger boy.” </p><p>Gabriel actually snorted at that, wondering what the angle was for this. Were they just trying to toy with him by using Jerahmeel, knowing that Gabriel was the one down at the pier the other day? Or was this some new way to piss him and his family off. They definitely made a mess of the evening. All the tables were cleared of the innocent, ignorant people – though the not so ignorant, who enjoyed being snoops were guardedly frozen like deer in the headlights – and a few of the usual faces were either looking to their leader for guidance or trying to be helpful to the cook staff that were harassed by the officers. He did NOT want to go back to tally damages. He felt a headache coming on. </p><p>“Well, that sounds reputable. Hey when did you say Jerry was down at the pier, exactly?”  </p><p>“Tuesday night.” </p><p>“Funny. He was covering a shift for the dish boy.” </p><p>“You can dispute it downtown, if you’re such a concerned citizen.” Levi smiled, as though he were talking about how great the day was. It made Gabriel want to punch out his stupid teeth. </p><p>“Be right down.” He intoned, mock-merrily as he often did. He turned, finally lowering his hands. “Hey, Sandy? Can you head on over behind Jerahmeel? He probably needs a good friend to look out for him.” </p><p>“You sure you don’t want me to help you keep an eye on the soused bug and the louse, over there?” </p><p>Said louse and bug were quiet, unmoving, Lucifer with his wicked grin plastered to his face and Beelzebub looking as bored as could be. They hadn’t moved. None of their compatriots had. It was like looking on creepy statues.  </p><p>“Nah. I’ve got them taken care of. You go.” He didn’t make anything of the glare Sandalphon gave to Bell. It was mean and dark and only for Prince, which Gabriel would have found strange if he saw it. There was just something dark behind Sandy’s gaze that wasn’t the usual adversarial one, and it should have been discomforting, but Beelzebub only gave him that same measured dead stare before he left them all. “So. Gonna get out of my hair?” </p><p>The need to play nice in front of the harness bulls was the only thing keeping his fists from flying, especially when Leviathan was in charge of the ruckus, who was certainly known for leaning things in his family’s favor. They had Gabriel by the balls on this one.  </p><p>Beelzebub took another sip of the wine before wiping their button nose with their knuckles, setting the glass down with a thunk. Everything they did seemed careful, slow and smooth, as though to take their time as they observed everything else around them before needing to spring into action. Like a tightly wound spring. Those highly observative eyes were laid on Gabriel now, making him feel like prey despite the fact that he was the one who should have been looking at the much smaller being in such a fashion. All Gabriel knew was that the tables were turned, and they were the one who was quite possibly going to devour the bear-shaped man.  </p><p>“Thiz iz a better vintage than what we serve, Luci. I’ll look into the distributor.” The tiny bug commented, still eyeing the imposing sized man on their right, as though debating what to do with him.  </p><p>“Is this what this is all about, Bella? I could have gotten you a good bottle, no need to go through the theatrics.” Gabriel quipped, holding his hands on his chest, like that drawing of ol’Romeo and shaking his head. “Hey, if Lucifer’s not providing, I certainly can.” </p><p>Their little cheeks perked up in a sick rendition of a soft smile, the muscles of their small face working to pull into that barely used feature, but it was all in as much mockery as Gabriel’s. “Again, with being zzweet on me, Mezzenger.” </p><p>“What can I say; I’m a proper gentleman, Bella-bee. I could take care of you.” </p><p>At that they rolled their eyes and scoffed, eyes and face turning cold once more.  </p><p>“Brother, do you happen to know where dear cousin Jerry was futzing around the last week or so?” Lucifer jumped in. </p><p>“Pppffff, he’s a big boy, does his own big boy things. I’m not his keeper.” </p><p>“Well, maybe you should have kept a closer eye on him, heard he’s been gallivanting around one of my girls.” </p><p><em>Jerahmeel David Angelo, you better fucking not have.</em> </p><p>Not liking fraternizing between the two factions and having previously dealt with traitors as well, Gabriel’s demeanor shifted. His shoulders squared and ran a hand over his jaw, trying not to sigh in frustration. Jerahmeel always did have a soft spot for the ladies, always falling harder for those who seemed more unattainable.  </p><p>“Did he wrack up a debt? Thought you would take it out of his hide instead of taking him downtown.” </p><p>“So crass.” Luci said, as though he hadn’t gutted one of his own for making google-y eyes at an Angelo. His smile was deadly. “We just want to know where the girl’s bo’s gone off to. She’s ever so lonely and hoping for a return, so we had to contact the good authorities.” </p><p>“So you’re supposing Jerahmeel has a know about this ‘bo’s’ whereabouts.” Gabriel made a face, “Couldn’t have just called and asked? Had to disturb the peace of my diners? You’re really somethin’ else, Luci.” </p><p>“We needed immediate answers, all being so worried. And Levi wanted to really help.” </p><p>“Of course, he would. Him and all his shiny badges and buttons.” Gabriel snarked, eyeing the miscreant and imagining throwing the asshole on the nearest table and punching the lights out of him. The bastard made Lucifer and attendance untouchable and Angelo was trying his best to not groan with every breath the bastard made.  </p><p>
  <em>Don’t punch out the ‘nice’ officer. Don’t punch out the ‘nice’ officer. Nonna will kill me, if I raise Hell so soon after. Go to the station and pick up Jerry, don’t punch Levi, and find out what the hell he got into. Do damage control. Don’t punch the ‘nice’ officer. </em>
</p><p>“You with us, brother?” Lucifer asked, snapping his fingers in Gabriel’s face. </p><p>
  <em>Don’t punch the shithead. </em>
</p><p>Gabriel’s smile grew larger, deadly and unfriendly. One of the other little assholes, who’s hair was done kind of funny in tiny points, skittered back a bit. “We’re not brothers.” </p><p>“Oh. My heart.” Lucifer made a dramatic sigh and was the one to put his hands to his chest this time. “Anyway, you need to keep a closer eye on your boys, Gabriel. Don’t want yours and ours mingling, do we?” He asked as he turned and started to walk away, caressing a hand over Beelzebub’s shoulder to their delicate but scarred, red stained throat.  </p><p>His fingers dance over one long thin scar down their throat from their jaw, one that couldn’t entirely be hidden by those high collars they wore. One Gabriel now knew led down to a gash between and over their thin collar bone after he’d grabbed them at the theatre. With the wine spilled down their throat it made it look angry and unnervingly raw. Lucifer’s thin fingers grazed over it with such familiarity, it sparked angry fires in Gabriel’s belly that made no sense. It did make him wonder what the very nature of their relationship actually was, but his thoughts were cut short. </p><p>Lucifer squeezed, just slightly and drew his face just close enough to press his sharp nose to the smooth part of their cheek. Despite knowing that Beelzebub was capable – and knowing well enough that they weren’t a woman, nor helpless, and definitely not one of his own people – the Messenger had to still himself from reacting and removing Lucifer’s hand from them. Though in his head he thought it’d be rather nice to remove Lucifer’s arm from his body entirely. </p><p>But Lucifer’s actions just made Angelo uncomfortable.  </p><p>What caught his eyes though, was the look to Bell’s face. They had slipped a hand over Lucifer’s own but brilliant blue eyes that sparkled in the dining rooms low lighting were focused solely elsewhere. Dead eyes coming to life and watching Gabriel’s expression. It was more than just watching him unfold.  </p><p>Gabriel once again felt like everything was being laid bare from his soul and weighed. He hated it when Bee looked at him like that. His sins were just as dark as their own and they shouldn’t make him feel like they were judge and jury for his soul. He felt caught, and slightly afraid of the smaller being, until he watched Luci place a kiss to Beelzebub’s cheek. </p><p>At the same time that they pulled his hand free, their eyes darkening, a grunt escaping their throat, Gabriel broke in with a deep boom of his voice. “That’s enough of that. Take yours and scram.” </p><p>He heard Levi click his tongue, absolutely not forgetting the sleazebag was standing at his side with thumbs in his belts. “You too, Capitano, gotta lock up.” </p><p>“Oh, don’t wait on me. Gotta do a search of the ol’ boy’s lockers.” Leviathan futzed, nonchalantly. “Care to show me ‘round?” </p><p>“Yeah, sure...” Gabriel tried not to growl, never taking his eyes off Lucifer and Beelzebub.  </p><p>There had to be more to this fiasco than Lucifer and his gang coming in and making a mess of things. If it wasn’t, then they’d have just gone and take Jerahmeel out in some back alley with a note of warning pinned to his shirts. Gabriel just wasn’t buying this bullshit story.  </p><p>“You got what you came for, now kindly scram.” </p><p>“I’m going, fret not…” Lucifer made his way, slinking up close to pass, even though he could have turned around, “Do give my love to Mickey for me…” </p><p>A shadow of a man Gabriel once knew as his brother made his exits, all eyes of his followers waiting for him to give orders, save one. Lucifer snapped his hands and the demonic bragade of status came to life. </p><p>On their way out, each demon passed him with a glare, but it was Beelzebub who sauntered up to him and dropped the red-stained fabric at his feet. Their delicate hand so close to his chest but not quite touching.  </p><p>Their eyes though... </p><p>********************* </p><p>Gabriel burst out of the jailhouse in a huff. Jerahmeel was at his side, broad hand on his shoulder to escort him out to the car. The man looked hardly worse for the wear for a night in a cell, and untouched by the Matina’s, grateful for at least that but still suspicious as to when they would make a move. He’d make sure he’d lay low, if the accusations were true.  </p><p>The rap was indeed alluding to a missing person’s case, that was easy enough to work around. A call had already been shot over to Raguel late last night, who sounded groggy for a few seconds, jolting to full indignant consciousness at the information relayed to him. He promised sending over a few of his buddy’s in the detective’s department to search the pier for just the right evidence. A quick thanks and hanging up and Gabriel sat tight for a long night and a stiff back, knowing that the cot in Jerahmeel’s cell couldn’t have improved since last the messenger took a turn for a night that he was accused of rabble-rousing.  </p><p>But that didn’t mean Angelo wasn’t mad at Jerry, Gabriel was PISSED!  </p><p>There was a bit in financial damages from the night before – Uriel taking charge of closing and opening – and then hush money that would need to be dispersed to appropriate parties. It was one headache after another. Slightly different than a shootout, but still a lot of legwork; and Gabriel wasn’t putting it passed Luci’s crew from putting a hit out on his cousin.  </p><p>“What were you thinking?!” </p><p>“They’re making it sound like it’s more than it was. I saw some yuck hovering around this dame – never saw either in my whole life, I swear it – and he was causing a fuss.” Jerry griped as they hustled down the stairs to the car. Their cousin, Armaros, opened the door for them and hurried into the driver’s seat. “I just took him for a short walk and that was it.” </p><p>As Gabriel folded his tall muscular body into the car, he leveled his cousin with a glare that meant business. “Not a short walk off a short pier, right Jer?” </p><p>The smaller man’s eyes were wide and spoke of no lie, hands up. “I swear it on Nonno’s soul, Gabe. Just gave the man a stern talking to to treat his lady as his mother taught him. Hand to God.”  </p><p>They stared at each other for a long time and Jerahmeel stayed nervously still under his older cousin’s scrutiny; it was one of the usual tests anyone causing trouble could go through. It was also another one of his weird little quirks earning him a sort of strange reverence amongst his family and associates, like he was some sort of lie detector. From what the Messenger could sense, Jerahmeel had spoke no lie. But Gabriel didn’t let up and stared at him for a minute longer. </p><p>“You know I don’t like it when a dame gets treated roughly. And she was this petite thing!” </p><p>That did it. Jerahmeel was certainly known for his soft spot for those smaller than him, particularly women and children. Gabriel was a little concerned that one day it’d be the death of him. He worried Jer would try to help the wrong broad and get a bullet in the chest for his troubles.  </p><p>“Did you know that it was his girl?” </p><p>The man started to sit up, his square cut shoulder’s arching to his ears. “It shouldn’t matter, she needed help. What business is it of mine if she’s his, shouldn’t touch her like that!” </p><p>The bigger man raised his hands to placate the smaller one. “Simmer down, it’s not your business, and you almost stepped into the Mattina’s.” </p><p>Jerahmeel growled and arched in his seat in visible aggravation. “If that’s the case I should HAVE walked him off the pier. The bastard would’a deserved it.” </p><p>“Be that as it may; you brought Luc and his little minions into the restaurant and caused heat from authorities.” Gabriel snipped but the younger man didn’t cower, just looked sorry. He shifted in his seat and pulled out a flask of what most knew was his special brew – something he learned to distill from his father, who learned to do it during prohibition – and offered it to Gabriel. But he didn’t take it. </p><p>“Gee, I am sorry, Gabriel, I really didn’t mean to cause trouble.” He took a swig, offered again, but tucked it away when he received a shake. It was fairly common knowledge that Gabriel didn’t really drink outside of his own house.  </p><p>“Alright. I believe you.” </p><p>The smile Jerahmeel gave was boyish and one Gabriel knew had gotten him OUT of plenty of trouble, making Gabriel’s face break into his own grin.  </p><p>“How can I make it up to ya?” </p><p>The car took a corner and the Messenger mulled over his next words carefully. “You promise that you’ll do as I ask?” </p><p>“Anything. You name it.” </p><p>The car took another turn, passing a Ford Model 18, and Gabriel thought he saw the ghost of a demon with dark hair and blood red lips.  </p><p>“Take a trip...Go visit Nonna for a while and keep a low profile...” </p><p>The car got really quiet for a second and Jerry looked over his boss and cousin nervously. It finally dawned on the younger man that there was something more than he was being told about his predicament.  </p><p>“You do believe me, Gabe, right?” He asked, quietly, “I had nothing to do with-” </p><p>And a shot was fired and rang out in the cabin of the car, Gabriel checked over and immediately armed Jerahmeel and they returned fire as more shots rang out.  </p><p>People on the streets could be heard screaming as the cars and gunshots barreled on. It wasn’t long before Gabriel could see into the other cabin, just after they were rammed into, that held a tiny demon with a tight sneer. Beelzebub was accompanied by Hastur and Ligur, and a few guns ready to fire.  </p><p>A second car pulled up and sandwiched them together.  </p><p>,em&gt;Not fucking good! </p><p>This one had the pipsqueak who jumped at Gabriel’s little growl at the restaurant and a few other clowns. They both kept the Angelo’s car slightly ahead of them, knowing that the tactic was better for firing into the cabin of the pressed car without endangering their compatriots in the next over. It also made it a bitch to shoot back a bit. </p><p>“Hey Armaros! Bring us to the southside! We’ll flag Dominion’s group down there for backup.” </p><p>The third Angelo worked the wheel and had them slam into the second car as they spun out and fish tailed it back the way they’d come. Armaros, without so much as a beat missed, switched the gears back from down gear quickly back into high, shifted with just the right timing to keep the car from stalling. He was their best driver and Michael had been the one to send him out with Gabriel, calling ‘women’s intuition,’ on her reasoning. Gabriel wasn’t going to argue with that.  </p><p>Armaros was good, but the first driver was skilled, that lanky red-head stuck to them like glue, pissing off both Gabriel and the driver.  </p><p>“Fucking bastard, he’s got a Ford, things meant for speed.” </p><p>“You gonna compliment the snake or knock him out of commission, Army?!” Jerry snapped as he fired off a few more shots.  </p><p>The red-head, the snake, was Crowley and looked less like he was meant to be in a mob car, nervously jumping at every ping and ding heard, whether from their sailing bullets or his buddies’. Both drivers rammed and an unnerving crunch was heard between the two. Gabriel let off a few more shots before they made a corner too wide, getting crashed into and the messenger flew back in his seat. Luckily for that jostle, as he was missed, but Jerry wasn’t so fortunate. The youngest of the three was hit in the shoulder and fell to the floor into the back of the front seat. Gabriel was quick to send a few more shots out and grab the downed man, compressing his wound.  </p><p>“I’m good! I’m good! Get the bastards!”  </p><p>“Stay down! Army, get us to Dominion’s!” </p><p>“On it, boss!”  </p><p>And the fight continued just shy of making it, another turn and the snake’s car hit Angelo’s at just the right moment, sending it spinning then flipping. Gabriel saw him and his cousin airborne for a split second that felt like forever before crashing hard into the roof of the car.  </p><p>Over and over they went tumbling until a final crush.  </p><p>But darkness did not take the messenger and his boys. And the Mattina gang didn’t just stop because they’d flipped. Gabriel crawled out, calling for Jerahmeel and Armaros, and took cover behind their totaled vehicle. Army managed well on his own, but both men had to drag Jerry out by his arms. The guy was barely conscious but miraculously alive! Shots kept falling and Gabriel grabbed Armaros by his shirts and gave him orders to, “Get Dom and his boys, now!” and sent him on his way. They were so close! </p><p>Just as the second car came roaring down the street, another went careening in and the fire flew! </p><p>The occupants climbed out to gain the vantage of two walls of steel and metal between them and sat tight for the bullets to go til all were spent or their target was snuffed out. Gabriel wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction though. He drew attention high with his full height – keeping the heat off Jerry – and took aim at the first little demon he could see. And in a split second he saw the corner of blood red lips on a scarred face tick up in an excited smile.  </p><p>A shot rang out that seemed to drown out the rest and Gabriel didn’t realize he’d been hit. Not until he’d hit the pavement. The tiny bitch caught him with an ace shot high on his shoulder, if he were more aware he’d have recognized that the bullet shot through his trapezius and out the other side. It was a lucky shot and lucky for Gabriel. It didn’t put him out of commission, but it made things incredibly difficult. He fell back and hit a trashcan, but seconds later sprung back to take another crack at his adversary.  </p><p>Just as he aimed with mental memory at Beelzebub, he took his shot and heard a second barrage to his right to discover Dom, Army, and the boys showing up; guns blazing and outnumbering Bell’s gang.  </p><p>A shriek was heard from one of the opposition and Gabriel looked back to see his aim had landed true and that Bee was bleeding from their side. Bright blood spattered the cobalt grey sidewalk, but they wouldn’t move. They remained unyielding in their position, face blank, and they aimed at him with untainted precision, cocking their Smith &amp; Wesson...Gabriel too distracted by the sharp blue eyes of an angel of death to move... </p><p>Someone jumped them both, Jerry took down the Messenger to the ground and Ligur grabbed Beelzebub, and started to drag them into the car as the Angelo faction let fire rain on them. Hastur chucked a molotov into the fray, someone shooting it – unable to tell from which side the bullet drew – but the skies was set alight in fire, and then another as he threw and repeated the fiery results.  </p><p>By the time Gabriel got up, his neck, chest, and shoulder started to throb, the smell of burning petrol hung in the air, and the Ford was gone from the street, it’s tires’ squealing in the distance. The only thing left was Beelzebub’s blood on the ground and the memory of their angry, merciless blue eyes...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Slang &amp; Other Jargon: </p><p>Thompson – Thompson machine guns. Popular weapons from mob men as early as 1918. This is the weapon’s shipment Gabriel was waiting on. </p><p>Ozone Park – is a neighborhood in Queens, New York. It was a very popular neighborhood for very familiar characters. It has many shops and store fronts that were once (not commenting on their status now) held by many of those mafia activity.  </p><p>Take a powder – leave. </p><p>Fat-head: idiot. </p><p>Motorized freckle – Bug </p><p>The Fuzz – police </p><p>Spud duty – WWII slang for kitchen duty; it doesn’t necessarily mean potato duty. </p><p>Soused – someone habitually drunk. </p><p>Louse – contemptable person. </p><p>Harness bull – cop </p><p>Futzing around – wasting time of frivolous things. </p><p>Wrack up a debt – insinuating Jerahmeel was employing the services of a woman of the night. </p><p>Soldier - Bottom level member of the family</p><p>Bo – Boyfriend. </p><p>Go downtown – the police station. </p><p>Capitano – Captain in Italian. (I think this was the first word I could recognize as a kid because my mom would yell at my father ofter “Hey! Capitano!” My father is an actual ship’s captain, so...) </p><p>Yuck – a fool or stupid person. </p><p>Short walk off a short pier – means how it sounds...and also makes me wonder what kind of childhood I had as this was another thing said often in my house. XD </p><p>Ford Model 18 – a popular mob car at the time, it was rather popular for getaway cars. </p><p>Smith &amp; Wesson model 19 – I feel like Bee would carry one of these, they’re certainly heavy and have a big kick but were popular amongst the mafia in the 40s. (I do have one for Gabe already picked out too. I’ll say he’s more into a sleeker model.) </p><p>Molotov Cocktail – Hastur is a pyro so I’m giving him use of a fun weapon that was used widely in the mafia. </p><p>Trapezius – this is a muscle that can be the BIGGEST bitch to damage. You do not want to damage this muscle as it connects from your neck and shoulder all over your chest and back. It’s pretty connected and is responsible for a large range of movement. You mess that up and you’re going to feel pain radiate widely over your body.  </p><p> **************************************</p><p>Gabriel seems to have a...slight fixation with thinking about what's under Bee's clothes, doesn't he? XD</p><p>I didn't get to write much coming from Bee but I hope you found it catching enough, when they did speak. And then there were other things about how I wrote them I hope came off well.</p><p>De Robertis is a real Italian pastry shop that was a popular spot for both the Gambino's and Genovese's, I hope to use them more in the coming chapters but who knows. It was an operations spot used by Gambino capo, Joseph "Piney" Armone. I may have a person in mind for this space. We'll see.</p><p>I had so much fun with the car chase scene, I hope you enjoyed it too, as it really helped move things along and I think it gave more grit to Beelzebub. The dining hall scene at the restaurant gave me so much problem for WHY because I have to figure that all out so that I can at least keep the story moving for everyone. So that’s why this update took FOREVER!  </p><p>The other thing I love was the brief Hastur and Ligur dialogue. It felt like something they'd chime in with. </p><p>I would LOVE to know what you thought of this, I promise I will get back to all your comments. If you have any questions, please ask away, if I can answer it without spoiling things I’ll answer. Tell me con-crit too, I really find it important as I really do want to grow in my writing.  </p><p>Stay safe &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. An Eye for An Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel’s not licking his wounds for long, he’s got a little score to settle with a tiny terror of a demon, and Angelo’s not going to take it sitting down. </p><p>Beelzebub is doing their own penance by dealing with a fellow problem prince on their own, only to be met with a little surprise down in the dance hall.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So. I hope everyone is ok. This was just another fucking crazy day with very little room to breathe between the awfulness. Anyone who paid enough attention knew this was going to happen, knew the man had ordered this when he asked his people to “stand back and stand by.” There is going to be so many people filling the already overtaxed hospitals because you can see NO ONE wore masks. To health care workers, I’m so sorry you will be strained even further. I am so so sorry.  </p><p>It’s not fair. </p><p>This treasonous coup was allowed to play out, not just by people in charge (if you watch a few vids you can see them open a barricade that is NOT opened for even congressmen. Those barriers are not meant to be moved for even cars), but by people who didn’t listen. There was so much choas down in that area and threats and a few bombs planted and...yeah.  </p><p>I HOPE you are okay, take time to decompress from this shit show if you can.  </p><p> </p><p>Uuuuuuhhhhh....here’s some other type of bloodshed?...for your entertainment?.....::insert nervous smile gif:: Yeah, this is what I had hunkered down for a while, both with this story and the newest WWC chapter, because I wanted to focus on my secret satan gift.  </p><p> </p><p>There is blood, violence, implied domestic violence, past theft mentions, gun use, graphic violence, and I think that’s it.  </p><p>I had a lot of fun writing this chapter once I figured out the path it was going to take. I introduced a few other characters a little. I hope I get to use them more in other chapters. </p><p>P.s. Gia is God/Nonna. Her name means God is gracious and I thought that would be a good name to use for her.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel refused to be laid up. He and Jerry got looked at by their personal doctor, another brother (Hey, it’s the 40s and their family’s Italian and huge, okay. What about it?), Raphael. He was a bit of a pain in the ass, but he was the best at stitching a schmuck up. He was going to put them on things to take the edge off, but Gabriel refused, declaring he had other plans.  </p><p>The messenger argued with the healer that he would be forgoing all medication and be done with it.  </p><p>Next thing he knew he was being bandaged up, yelled at to “Take it easy, you brute! The little bugger tore through your neck muscles, do you know what that does to your shoulders?” Right before Gabriel took a loooong nap after being jabbed in the ass. </p><p>The bastard played him. </p><p>But as soon as he was up, instead of resting, as the doctor ordered, Gabriel took to work. He put a few things in order and sent a few orders out, square things away to keep things clean before he went and did something that would make a lot of noise.  </p><p>Within a few days he put together a meeting with a few of the gang. The most reliable to get a job good and done, unafraid of the mess that would be made or potential time in the slammer.  </p><p>Retaliation was simply in order. </p><p>“Hey, how’s Jer doing?” Selaphiel asked, just getting in, thumbs in pockets and swanky suit jacket back to reveal his suspender holsters and guns. Rearing to go. </p><p>“He’s fine, Sel. Kid’s got Raph pinning him to a table.” </p><p>“That’s because you made a break for it as soon as you opened your eyes.” Uriel outed, giving their brother a look. </p><p>“Ey, you know me, just couldn’t stick around.” </p><p>“Which is why Raphael stuck you in the first place.” They snarked, shaking their head. “At least you’re not suffering the wrath of Nonna yet.” </p><p>Gabriel smiled affectionately at his younger sibling, pinched their cheek, earning a playful slap back.  </p><p>“Alright, children, back to business. We gonna take a whack at the bug or not?” Sandalphon called out. </p><p>“Is it true Jerry went after some Mattina hooker?” </p><p>“No. He didn’t know she was one of theirs.” Gabriel answered simply. “He saw a dame in distress and wanted to help her out. And now one of their boys is missing.” </p><p>The second tallest of the Angelo’s tsked, and shuffled his feet. “That boy can never keep outta other people’s business. Gonna get us all killed one day.” </p><p>“Ah, shut up. You’d jump off a cliff after that chucklehead.” A man with hair close to the color of Aziraphale’s pipped in with a laugh. </p><p>“Here, ain’t I?” Sel beamed a megawatt smile that always had Gabriel just a touch jealous. Teeth so perfect and white, an even gap right between his front two incisors, they could set a room at ease with a flash and charm many a gal. Out of all the other Angelo’s, Sel was the other best dressed. Growing up, he and Selaphiel (Gabriel’s half-brother) would always switch out garments, bowties, vests, anything to get the best look for the day until Nonna would be yelling at the two to “get yer asses down here, before suppa’ gets cold!” That is also til Jerahmeel stole him away as best buds. </p><p>“The question is, did Jerry make the Mattina guy jump off anything.” </p><p>“He says he didn’t. I believe him.” </p><p>“Just like that?” </p><p>“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Bara.” Sandy said with a too pleased grin. </p><p>“Yeah, the man’s got some wicked chess game goin’ on in there.” Sel smiled. </p><p>“Gives me the willies sometimes.” Bara grimaced and shook, rubbing her arms. </p><p>“Has anyone heard what happened beyond that?” Sandalphon asked. </p><p>“Tio Mattina. Small fry, for sure. Hasn’t been found, as of yet. No body, either. He just disappeared into thin air. Michael’s heard from her sources that his boys are still looking for him.” Uriel supplied, taking a second gun handed to them. </p><p>“Good to know. Has Michael asked around why Luci’s crew is so keyed up over one of their smaller creeps?” </p><p>“You think it’s more than the usual humdrum?” Sel asked. “I mean, it’s not like we ever need a good reason to go shooting at each other.” </p><p>“Well, Beelzebub was in our main restaurant for the very first time ever and brought Lucifer along. No small fry would have the big wigs out to take a gander at a little ol’ fooling around.”  </p><p>“Shit!” Sal exclaimed in surprise, hands on hips and shifting about. </p><p>“Madre di Dio.” Jegadiel crossed himself. </p><p>“Okay, kiddies, we do this quick and clean, Bell and their boys are at The Stork for an evening of fun. Let’s pick up a few more of the pack and give them what they’re looking for.”  </p><p>“Always wanted to go to The Stork Club. Heard the ladies’ all get an orchid.” Bara sighed, adjusting the belt on her powdery blue aline dress.  </p><p>“Well, take the lot on the way out.” Gabriel threw in before refocusing. “Sel, you and Barachiel will be the sweepers, Sandy and Jeg will take up the back. Uriel’s with me at the lead. The rest will be cleaners.” </p><p>“Planning to take a whack at that little bug bitch, yourself?” A quirky smile was on Jeg’s lips as he asked, “Should we make you a clearing?”  </p><p>“At least want to give them as good as they gave.” Gabriel grinned back, shrugging his wounded side a little, feeling the muscles shift painfully. </p><p>“Stomp them out.” Sel smirked as he clapped his large tan hand on his brother’s cheek in approval.  </p><p>Not much else was said as they moved out to the cars. </p><p>****************************** </p><p>Down at the club, not much seemed off; the booze was flowing, the people were dancing to the sultry sounds of Ecita and her orchestra. But up in The Cub Room was a surly little monster sighing through an argument with their brother-in-arms, Mammon Billingsley, Grandpa Greed as he was known in the seven circles.  </p><p>He wasn’t cooperating and arguing that HE knew what he was doing, that paying his people a good wage wasn’t as important as getting the new trimmings that was a world-renowned chef in the kitchen. It would bring in more clientele and they would be swimming in new patrons, thus making it more than profitable and easier to pay people decent wages.  </p><p>Or so he kept saying. </p><p>It wasn’t always this way with him, he was usually temperate with his own greed, playing it like his own chess game. Unless he was certain he’d found a fool-proof move to work with. Mammon wasn’t about fast money, always playing the long game that would lead to the bigger bucks, so this whole ‘chef’ thing wasn’t too suspect.  </p><p>But the penny-pinching on the books and the regular staff was. </p><p>“You’re putting the cart before the horse, Mammon, you need to take into consideration that you have your valet and coat check girls sleeping in Belphi’s rooms, right now.” </p><p>Mammon waved a hand in dismissal, “They’re aspiring artists working two jobs. And it ain’t like Belphi’s place is that bad. Sheesh, Bell, you act as though I’m having my people sleep on the street.” </p><p>“Azzy uses those hotels for his higher-end clients. And then meetings get held there, it’s far from clean as far as officials are concerned.” They nipped out. </p><p>The petite demon kept their back ramrod straight and head high, only adding strain to their stitches in their stomach. Gabriel Angelo had certainly given them plenty to remember him by, aside from their fury. It made sitting around in the meeting worse. </p><p>Skulking in front of their people was one thing, Billingsley wouldn’t talk to them if they didn’t appear invested in the conversation, pushing his importance. Their aggravation was what easily helped keep their shoulders square. It was annoying as fuck and left Beelzebub feeling bare, no wall at their back as Mammon had ensured he’d be the one closest to the wall. It wasn’t because either thought they were any more a threat – at least no more than normal – but keeping eyes on the outside world was the advantage to keep. It didn’t help that the walls of The Cub Room were curved in such a wavy way to make it difficult to keep one’s back to.  </p><p>Because of that, Bell sat with their back vulnerable.  </p><p>Not even did they think they were safe with the likes of Dagon at their back. They’d be a fool not to be aware that anyone could stick them with a knife or gun if they weren’t constantly vigilant; they were smart enough to know. Most of the Mattina gang were like that, born of betrayal at its rotten core. A den of backstabbing crooks. The Angelo family was probably the only group that had raised their children and initiates to believe otherwise, foolishly. </p><p>But Prince was never so stupid, even prior to officially joining the Mattina family. Even before crawling their way up the ranks. Not even after they settled – something Bell never did – had they allowed for that sort of stupidity. Which was why they were still armed to the teeth as they sat across from Billingsley, twin stiletto blades in their breast pockets and their gun holstered, eyes roaming to the mirror across the room or reflections in the full water glasses set on the table that they hadn’t touched. </p><p>It was certainly exhausting, but they never let that fact go. </p><p>All it had took to make Bell that way was what was supposed to be a calming night at home, with their mother trying to tell them it would all be alright as she took care of them through difficult times. All it had taken was the shadow that seemed to consume that night of nightmares that should have been a reprieve. It was what it was though. </p><p>Bee could see was the shoulders of the next soldier sat at the table over one of Billingsley’s and hear the cacophony of Mammon’s utensils on the house red-rimmed china and the singing downstairs. </p><p>The Cub Room had been shut down for this meeting and yet Lucifer was not in attendance. Again. He’d sent Beelzebub off for the job because of what they’d done after the scrap with Lucifer’s brother.  </p><p>The older man waved his hand at them again, ending with tapping the table. “Everyone’s hush hush about it, they’re fine that way.” </p><p>Another sigh and their eyeballs could be seen rolling about in their head. “Juzt a small increase. You’ll give them incentive and keep them further away from-” </p><p>“Hey. What’s it to you? You go around, sticking your nose in my business and act all high and mighty, just because you’re so...favored by the boss doesn’t mean you run the show.” </p><p>“I make no falzze claim, I run a bit of this show. And it’s Lucifer saying you need to keep our people separated from our PEOPLE. Getzz messy when they see things in their homes more than the usual fuck-all at the shops and clubhouse.” They ground out, watching the waitress take Mammon’s finished plate of grilled breast of capon away, flashing him a smile that was too sultry for Beelzebub’s taste. </p><p>“I run the clubhouse, ME, and you-” </p><p>“I am at his left hand-” </p><p>“You come in here and have the audacity to SAY-” </p><p>“I say what Lucifer sayzz. And what he sayz izz what we must adhere to.” In truth it was Beelzebub who found the issues and brought it to Lucifer. Not only were the workers being paid under what they believed good enough to keep the people from picketing. Small discrepancies in the books popped up in calculations. Lucifer was mightily pissed that Mammon could be potentially stealing from him, but he was one of the boss’s top boys from the beginning. An uncle, though that didn’t mean much to Lucifer in the grand scheme of things.  </p><p>Mammon just needed a little reminder that he served the Mattina family and not just himself. This little leaning session was what the two devised to remind Billingsley that he was being watched and to make it right. “You need to sort your priorities so that we keep things cleaner cut. Keep those who aren’t devoted to the family from having cause to sing.” </p><p>“Yeah, speaking of singing, you should have kept to the stage. Oh wait. You can’t.” The bastard had the audacity to drag his thumb over his own face, mimicking the trail of Bee’s scar. “But you sure flap your lips alot, princess.” </p><p>Something shifted in the room, Beelzebub’s glare changed from one of frustrated disdain for being there to concentrated hostility. “I have right. You’re fucking up, Mammon. You’re not listening. You’re loozzing track of money. And Lucifer izz not pleazzed. He sent ME to enzure you knew that and to deal with you how I see fit. Do you want to know what I want to do, Mammon?”  </p><p>The bigger being shifted in his seat uncomfortably, realizing his error. Beelz’s temper only soared when it was warranted as they preferred to remain focused on getting work done.  </p><p>“What’dya think you can do to me, Bell?”  </p><p>A tip of their head and their blue eyes caught the light, “Be an awful zhame if something were to happen to those Righteous Judges, or whatever it is you call them, I forget. However, I remember how prestigious the lot looks in the moonlight of the cathedral hall. Your house isn’t as well-kept as its last home was...Hear they’re worth a lot.” </p><p>Mammon eyes squinted at his superior and growled out, “You wouldn’t dare.” </p><p>“Oh, I would.” The unmoving Prince declared, “I popped that canvas’s nails for you the first time, I know it won’t take much work to do it again. Maybe thizz time, I’ll add a smile to their facezz.” </p><p>“Come on, Beelz!” The older man whined, rubbing his brow roughly, “You remember how exciting that job was-” </p><p>“How unnecessary it was. But you had to have’em.” Their voice gave no room for quarter without raising in tone. Deadly serious.  </p><p>The little shadow could easily recall the process they went through to get that canvas. Beelzebub did always enjoy a good art heist. This had been rather easy, though not quick. They had roved the cathedral all night long as if it was their own kingdom of shadow and light. The priests were nestled in their adjoining rectory and Beelzebub was silent as they roamed in the darkness, letting the moonlight encase them in blood reds and blues to match their eyes til they made their way. </p><p>They had been alone and able to allow the awe of seeing such a vainglorious sight of the alterpiece with its many panels – always planning to chip away another particular panel for themselves, when next in Belgium.  </p><p>At one point they had lay out in the pew to watch the colors dance over the pieces, before getting to work. Painstakingly unhinging the frame, lowering it carefully, and getting to work to remove it without damage or alerting the priests. </p><p>But apparently it had been so quick and shocking that it became big news. The Four Pious Judges were what had Mammon’s eyes for the fact that it was his twisted image of the four “Princes” that Lucifer allowed reign at the time, all four relatives of the Angelo family who he believed were more reliable jury of their original family’s own twisted view.  </p><p>It had been easy to get them intrigued into doing the job; the history of the piece had stoked Bell’s desire to take it. The greedy bastard had known that telling Beelzebub it was a stolen piece would get their interests. To the diminutive being it seemed stealing it again was actually half the fun, made a point. The fact that it was still expensive, and the set of frames had barely settled after WWII ended meant nothing to Prince, just rubbing it in their face that hard work went to waste. </p><p>Later it was revealed that Lucifer enjoyed the dark-haired not-yet-Prince’s endeavors for being so crass, to steal from God and their church. Like a spit in the eyes of the Creator. He just found it particularly amusing like that. </p><p>The only people alive to know anything about the act had been Lucifer, Mammon, and Beelzebub. They kept tight-lipped about it because Mammon was no stoolie, and if word got out that his precious Judges were real, he’d have to give them up.  </p><p>It worked for all of them though; control him through his love of art and wealth. </p><p>If there was any sin that Mammon was guilty of, it was indeed greed. If he saw something he wanted he’d beg, barter, and steal to get it. He wasn’t that different from any of the other leaders except that his judgement got a little clouded when he zoned in on something that really caught his eye. The only thing keeping him from getting into too much trouble over this, was he was damn good at making money for Lucifer.  </p><p>Kept the beast sated.  </p><p>“Yeah, but it got you so much cred and Luci really took to you for it.” He waved his arms about, smiling best he could to disarm, “It was quite the feather in your cap.” </p><p>They both knew that wasn’t entirely true. Lucifer had started to take note of Beelzebub for quite some time, prior. But when they had shown up in Mammon’s house in all black with a tiny, pleased scowl on their scarred face, painting strung up in just the right spot over an accent table, waiting in the dark for him to discover and Lucifer had been with him, Beelzebub saw another one of those curious sparks light up in his golden-brown eyes.  </p><p>The Morningstar was indeed pleased. </p><p>They used things like that to their advantage, time and again, to keep his interests in at least their wit and gumption. Always going out of their way to amass more wealth and sought-after objects and keeping such a tight lid on the how they came to do it. Just take and surprise.  </p><p>“I giveth and I can taketh away, Mammon. I’ll hide it where no one in the world would find it until everyone is dust.” </p><p>“You’re not God, Bell.” He glared at them, “You don’t get to decide-” </p><p>“I do. I’m not asking you to move mountains, simply raise wages to keep things peachy for your regular staff. Make the numbers make sense, if you catch my meaning.” They growled low. </p><p>“Fine.” Lucifer’s other ‘Prince’ of the hellions grit throwing his hands up before folding his hands on the table. “Fine...”  </p><p>He was staring at them. Clearly he wanted to say something more but it seemed that it was something else, as his features shifted to something curious. It wasn’t neutral in the least, and it sure as hell wasn’t displeased. “Heard you had a little scuffle with Luci’s brother. You missed the bastard.” </p><p>“I didn’t mizz.” </p><p>“Heard he’s still breathing.” Mammon pursed his lips and tilted his head at them, waving his hands around again. “What was the point of that?” </p><p>“Fucker pizzezz me off.” </p><p>“As he does us all. Gabriel was always a pain in the ass, even as a kid. But why’d you go after the jamoke?” </p><p>“Wasn’t after Gabriel.” </p><p>Mammon shifted, nodded, waved his hand a bit, and then shook his head waiting for further answers. “Okay. Care to share with the rest of us lowly schmucks? You went after him or whoever after Gabe played fetch at the jail. Why’d’ya do that?” </p><p>“Why do we ever do anything, Mammon?” A tired sigh escaped Beelzebub, but they refuse to let their shoulders slump even as their body ached from the throb in their wound. “Jerahmeel Angelo didn’t give us what we wanted; Levi was only zzo much help.” They said with hardly a shrug.  </p><p>“What more could you possibly want to know? That’s a lot of effort for putting eyes on one of our boy’s gals. Gotta be more to it.” </p><p>There was, but they weren’t going to say a thing about it. Beelz needed to get the whereabouts from Jerahmeel to find Tio and question him, and still needed to question Jerahmeel too. They needed to get some fucking answers. </p><p>“You know how Lucifer is about fraternizzzing.” </p><p>The other boss held his hands up in surrender, “Kay...True. What are you going to do about the dame?” </p><p>“She’s the one who came to us after he didn’t come back, all bleeding and banged up. Sayzz zzhe and Tio was having a disagreement before Angelo showed up, causing a mezz.” </p><p>“Tio’s? Our Antonio’s girl?” </p><p>“Mammon. No.” </p><p>“Same girl he picked up off’a Azzy?” </p><p>“Mammon. Drop it.” </p><p>“Kay...Just let me know if I have to tuck anyone away, yeah?” The man often associated with the sin of greed leaned back, eyes studying Beelzebub. “You know I’m good for it.” </p><p>Indeed, he was, the people Mammon Billingsley got tucked away and never heard from again, but Beelzebub wasn’t finished questioning the woman to let her go of easily, yet.  </p><p>The small demon huffed, averted their blue eyes down, “juzzzt need to get a firm hand on the pipsqueak, then I can snuff him out. Whack him and that pompous peacock into next Zzunday. Make our livezz eazz-easier.” </p><p>“Gia’s going to be pissed.” The old man pursed his lips into a tight line and nodded, folding his arms up and scratching his greying hair. “You knock Gabriel off and I’ll get you the Regent Diamond.” </p><p>Beelzebub actually scoffed, eyes icy trying to hide the humor they found in his proclamation. “After you have me go out and steal it for ya, yeah?” </p><p>Mammon chuckled at that, “You’ll always be my little thief before you’se was ever his prized Prince, Isabella.” </p><p>Icy blues hardened again. The name digging at a scar as old as the ones carved into their flesh. No one else who knew used their given name anymore, no one but Mammon or the police.  </p><p>Mammon was the one who’d indeed ‘found’ them a few years down the road from their incident. They were just plotting out the path which to take their rage and revenge, who to use it on, who to steal from. The biggest issue was figuring out WHERE to look for a shadow that hunted those like who Prince used to be, so they tucked into the darkness that was the world their family was once tied into. </p><p>But before they started gaining power – flaunting that they were still alive and kicking – they lived on the streets and lived like their own shadow, picking up jobs here and there as best a scarred up little monster could. </p><p>Watching all families that bore potential for the best use. </p><p>Mammon started using them when he noticed their skill for jacking things, Bell certainly created a name for themselves. Cars, money, expensive trinkets left in tightly locked boxes, a boat even, then started using it on things he really wanted. No one ever really knew how they got in and out, turning like a shadow themselves – a swarm of darkness – but always coming back with more shiny things. </p><p>The bastard also was the first person to figure out who they were and never seemed to get out of the habit of calling Beelzebub by their given name.  </p><p>Whether that was by malicious intent to try and make them uncomfortable or not, they weren’t sure. They’d have to let themselves get distracted enough to care to find out. He was the only one harder to push against out of all Lucifer’s people though. </p><p>“Juzzt do azz asked, Mammon. Keep your nose clean.” They pushed out of their chair, jamming their hands in their pockets and nodding for Dagon and the gang to follow out. Around a corner and down the stairs, Hastur and Dagon in the lead and Ligur to their right, Erik fumbling in the back. </p><p>A headache was forming behind their eyes and the demon pushed it to the back of their head, willing it to stop throbbing on willpower alone. Their stomach wound was fairing no better over their stitches. </p><p>As the crew hit the bottom stair, Hastur was already moving the dancing crowd to make a path, the others, shouldering around the Prince to keep them guarded. Halfway through the hall, a rat-a-tat-a-tat of Thompson erupted, as fast as any tapper and typewriter, and Beelzebub cursed as they dove for the nearest table, toppling it over, pulling their Smith &amp; Wesson slinging a curse in the air. Scanning the house, they analyzed their problem point. V formation at the front but bare back, the assailants seemed to be avoiding the civilians for the most part.  </p><p>A shot rang past Bell’s ear and they cracked one back and downed the bastard who fired at them. </p><p>“The fuck is going on down there?!” </p><p>“Mammon! Get Andrazzz and Leraie and get down here, now!” </p><p>Billingsley already took out one close to point but was chased back up the stairs, tuck and rolling onto the landing to get out of the way, with the rapid fire of the one to fall in behind. Beelz took them out by their knee and then in the head. </p><p>
  <em>Fuck it all. </em>
</p><p>They’d have to double back and go through the kitchen, but then they saw that Hastur was too far out in the fray to swing back. Beelzebub wasn’t going to leave the dummy. </p><p>“Hazztur! Get’yer arzze outta there!” Ze bellowed in frustration over the fire. “Dagon, with me! Ligur, clear the route.” </p><p>“On it, boss.” Ligur called, turning from his position and pushing people out of the fray as he made it to just shy of the swinging doors. A shot out and he was snipping at the younger man in their compartment as he pushed him against the wall, low, shy of missing a bullet that would have made the rookie meet his maker. “Erik, duck, you knucklehead!” </p><p>“Roger. Ducking.” </p><p>Three of their own legion that had accompanied Prince and their usual gang were downed around the house, a few civilian casualties in the mix. The demon growled about the mess this was going to be in the end. Blood on the dancefloor and bullet holes in the walls. It wasn’t completely unexpected though. Not after the car chase. </p><p>It was then that Beelzebub spotted the one to orchestrate this fiasco. And when they made eye contact, the little demon sneered, and Gabriel smiled far too jovially at them. </p><p>“Heya, Dollface!” He aimed and fired before flipping a table on his left, shouting above the din. “Figured I’d make good on that promise, if your dance card’s cleared, that is.” </p><p>A barrage of gunshots sent them both ducking, Gabriel was too far into the fray to be at a safe vantage from friendly fire. </p><p>“Oh, anything for you, Love.” They haughtily called back, eyeing that Hastur was between the two and calculating exactly HOW to get the fucker out of this debacle, aiming their gun at another of Gabriel’s crew and taking one of Angelo’s hosts down. Gabriel was taking aim at Erik, bellowing out the beginnings of an order just as Beelzebub switched focus and took a crack at the messenger with a shot, dashing from their cover and launching at him in a surprise attack.  </p><p>They felt their stitches pop. </p><p>The two went tumbling and Gabriel rolled on top of them, his blood spilling on their face as it dripped from the new wound. Both guns were lost in the fray. Beelzebub reached for a stiletto as Gabriel straddled them, putting his hands around their delicate throat.  </p><p>They remembered how strong his hands were, how they could encompass their slim neck with such ease and the pressure he exerted. It quickly made them see stars and they thrust with the still sheathed blade into his stomach, slashing him on the out-swing. He lifted them and slammed them into the ground with brute force, knocking wind out of them. A smack to his head with a chair from Hastur and the spritely demon thrust their lithe body up with a force to dismantle Gabriel from atop them, striking with small but strong fists. </p><p>He blocked after the first strike landed on his jaw and Beelzebub started to use their stiletto to make his arm a pincushion just as a shot zipped past too close.  </p><p>“Hazztur, get the fuck outta here!” They called just as another shot from Uriel hit the meat of their arm. They could feel the blood trickle down their limb.  </p><p>Just as Bell was about to stab Gabriel again, ignoring the pulsing wound, he barreled forward, large thumbs pressing into their stomach, digging into the stitches and wound he had given them in their last fire fight. They toppled back from pain and his force, just as Dagon managed a shot to his other shoulder, one that matched the same as the Prince’s new one – an eye for an eye – and down he went. </p><p>A set of hands pulled the tiny terror kicking at their previous opponent and the group were off in a spray of bullets; Billingsley putting the bug over his shoulder. </p><p>“Why can I never keep you outta trouble, kid?” He laughed, and dragged them through the doors, firing away with the rest as they went.  </p><p>Down and around, they would travel, down to the basement and not the alleyway exit, to use the sub-level maintenance tunnels to avoid any further attack.  </p><p>They were retreating again and Beelzebub wasn’t bleeding enough to not be enraged...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Raphael is not Crowley in this! AAAHHHH my head hurts over that one. But I can’t when I’m definitely going to pair a Principality with Crow boy.  </p><p>But I just find it funny that Raph dopes up a fighting Gabriel being a smartass and off to lalaland Gabriel goes! </p><p>There was so much more that I wanted to do for Uriel, but I got sidetracked with this new character Selaphiel. I just imagined a good smile and snazzy dresser, with a smooth ‘tude to be Gabe’s best friend and I was done for. So I had to go back and forth to balance Uriel’s presence with Sel’s because I didn’t want to lose either.  </p><p>Ecita and her orchestra were regular musical accompaniment at The Stork Club in the 50s. There were many other great performers who performed there but were regular guests as well.  </p><p>I based Mammon Billingsley after the owner of the time, Sherman Billingsley. He was a former mobster who moved from Enid, Oklahoma for the business. He made all sorts of things happen at the Stork, despite the odd shape to the curvy rooms. The second floor had The Cub Room that I set the meeting between Mammon and Beelz.  </p><p>This is The Stork Club's Cub Room: https://untappedcities.com/2014/07/10/vintage-nyc-photography-the-swanky-stork-club-where-hemingway-the-vanderbilts-and-the-kennedys-hobnobbed/</p><p>And the dance hall: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/826269862858176614/</p><p>I am enjoying fleshing out the other Princes as major bosses, and I really liked calling Mammon Grandpa Greed. It just has such a feel to it. I didn’t mean to create a weird comradery between the two but I like what’s played out.  </p><p>The Regent Diamon is a grey/black diamond is a 140.64 carat diamond found in the Kollur mines in India, in 1698. It was said to be found by a slave and hidden in a wound in his leg before trying to smuggle it out, only to be murdered by an English sea captain for it. At least that’s how the rumor goes. It did serve as the pommel of Napoleon’s sword for a time. It’s currently owned by the French state and on display at the Louvre.  </p><p>It is said to be cursed after many scandals and misfortunes to befall the owners of the cushion cut stone. </p><p>I was trying to think of something ostentatious and ridiculous for Mammon to offer up if Bee were to kill Gabe and I couldn’t help but the almost black diamond named perfectly for a Regent ruler of Hell.  </p><p>When ladies, and woman-shaped beings, would go to The Stork Club, they would get an orchid to pin to their dresses and gowns. Barachiel mentions that, because I wanted to slip that fact in. </p><p>The Stork was very popular to take lunch at but the menu wasn’t exactly top notch – not meaning that it wasn’t good, or good food – and was miss-mash in what was served. They DID employ a very good head chef throughout the years, and that was said to be a highlight. There were also union scandals and strike’s for The Stork too, though. </p><p>The best vantage point is a place to put your back to a wall and able to see all exits, so you can keep an eye on people entering and exiting. A water glass full is great to keep an eye on your surroundings. Also great to jab in a face.Thanks for teaching me that young dad. (I may have had a very different childhood y’all XD) </p><p>Stiletto blades were really popular in Italy for a VERY long time. Beelzebub, the demon, is a double blade wielder and I thought how much fun would it be to have Beelzebub carry two of these bad boys?  </p><p>https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/pair-of-large-1950s-vintage-italian-stiletto-swit-142-c-cf043ceade </p><p>The originals looked more fanciful, but the gen that a lot of mafioso would carry looked more like this: </p><p>https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/pair-of-large-1950s-vintage-italian-stiletto-swit-142-c-cf043ceade </p><p> </p><p>1940s Slang &amp; Italian Lexicon </p><p>Schmucks = idiot, foolish person. </p><p>Chucklehead = dummy. </p><p>Humdrumm = monotonous, dull. </p><p>Gander = a look (Am I maybe not the only person who uses this?). </p><p>Creep = mean, dispicable person. </p><p>Madre di Dio = Mother of God. </p><p>Sweepers = the crew that would start sweeping the corners and vulnerable spots first. </p><p>Whack = okay, I KNOW I don’t have to explain this one. I’m certain nearly everyone has watched at least ONE mob/mafia movie. </p><p>Initiates = anyone who wasn’t IN the mafia but was coming in, was an initiate. </p><p>Soldier = low-level mob. </p><p>Sing (in this instance) = to tell. </p><p>Flap your lips = talk a lot. </p><p>Stoolie = an informant, who gives up info for clemency or other favors. </p><p>Jamoke = it was a slang for coffee and idiot. Take a guess which I mean here. </p><p>Knock off = I don’t think I need to explain this one either. </p><p>Thompson = Thompson sub-machine gun. A go to for the mafia up til the end of the 50s. </p><p>Knucklehead = dummy. </p><p>Friendly Fire = when you get shot by your own people.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel and Beelzebub are both dealing with the fallouts from their fighting, vicious and intense.  </p><p>One has strict orders to lay low. </p><p>The other enforces that on themself, constantly remaining vigilant from unseen threats.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings of abusive behavior, medical issues mentioned, power imbalance and coercion, misgendering, and mentions of past trauma, both physical, implied sexual, and emotional.  </p><p>I do mention Bee’s past again, and have more story REVEALED! Just a smidge. </p><p>I’d actually got this one written out quick, when I focused it on Bee, and then I had to fine tune it and...well, it didn’t go as hoped. XD </p><p>But I’ve finished it, and I think it turned out okay. Just...give me a nudge if something doesn’t make sense, I want this coherent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Both parties licked their wounds.  </p><p>Authorities were handled after the fact on both sides, thanks to interventions from Raguel Angelo and Leviathan Mattina within their own circles, keeping hands ladened with sufficient funds to sift through and occupy the corrupt. Mammon had to close the club, apologized to the public, and gifted his high-profile clientele with trinkets to reignite interests. After all, it was always a good way to sweep things under the rug with incentive. </p><p>And Beelzebub and Gabriel both ended up with more stitches to add to their bodies’ collection. </p><p>The wounds Angelo had to have attended to made Raphael appalled and livid. The holes from Beelzebub’s stiletto blades in Gabriel’s forearm alone made Raphael freak out and shout. He cursed so much, Raph’s face turned as red as his hair. He may have beat Gabriel with a shoe.  </p><p>Gabriel didn’t really have to deal with evading the police while leaving the scene of the shootout. Mostly just beat cops in the nearby vicinity alerted by the noise, because Michael swooped in to save the day from the cavalry, making a visit to the switch station of the police department. She flashed her best smiles, bringing the boys in blue coffee, sauntering in with those perfectly lined nylons on her curvy legs. Acting all coy, being far too distracting with the way she had sat on the desk with a flash of her stocking garters, asking them how their families were.  </p><p>How Michael knew about Gabriel’s plan to hit The Stork Club was beyond the Messenger, but he was forever grateful and pleased. Even after the earful he got from her too, which he took gracefully with a smile, knowing her anger was out of concern.  </p><p>And after Michael...he got a call from Nonna!  </p><p>Orders were precise. Lay low or else...With all the damages, injuries, dead soldiers, and wounded pride, that wasn’t as hard to follow as it normally was. </p><p>On the flip side, Beelzebub was dealing with an angry bruise around their throat, the new bullet wound to their arm, and dehiscence with their first set of stitches. The evisceration was pretty bad from when Gabriel dug his thick fingers into their wound, their previously unhealed stitches required extra attention to prevent infection. After what happened at The Stork, a fever quickly descended on the petite being, bad enough that they had to hole up in one of their secreted away shelters on 837 and 66 M for a bit. It was above a haberdasher storefront, on the top floor. Nothing special about the local and the streets were fairly packed with busy people.  </p><p>The roof was situated for someone – even if that someone was unwell, like Bell – acclimated to scaling buildings to go from one to the next to the next, should it become necessary in emergency, which this was. It was easy enough for Bee to break into and lay low on a pile of discarded wool blankets in the corner, cold enough to keep shelf-stable food and running water that they knew where to turn on with its exposed pipes. The best part was that no one else knew about the place but Bell, not even Dagon. They always kept an inventory for places to hideaway in the back of their head, for times of need like this. So, it was perfect for the recovering hellion. </p><p>They disappeared from all, coming out only to pickup necessities and materials to work on for the week or meet with Dagon and the crew, to hold vital meetings.  </p><p>However, Lucifer tracked them down at one such meeting and rained hell on his lieutenant; pissed at Beelzebub’s continued fiascos involving Gabriel and the Angelo family.  </p><p>He hit them, struck them down and kicked them, shouting. They let him, curling up to prevent the assault to hit their face and stomach’s healing stitches. None would dare argue, and Beelzebub accepted. Lucifer did stop eventually, when he was satisfied. He got to his knees, drew them into his arms and tenderly held their scarred face with shaking hands.  </p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered to them, but Beelzebub didn’t react. They held still as he kissed their lips just as softly, not pulling away as they usually would. They knew what to allow him in his anger, Beelzebub was never fooled by his ‘tender’ actions though.  </p><p>The first time he put his lips on them had been a surprise and the act – along with intrusive touches – became more common through the years, seeing it as his desires to have that power to do so over the smaller being. A sort of control. They had vied for his attentions for power to wield but never with flirtations.   </p><p>The Prince did find him beautiful, alluring, and all that, but they were well aware of the manipulative bastard he was. There was no way they could believe he found them attractive unless it was out of some perverse fetish. They found their scarring terrible to look at, and liked the way it kept others away. And as for thoughts of taking him to bed and making him their own, seduce him into giving them anything and more power, they found the notion preposterous for what they believed were obvious reasons. It wouldn’t fly, Lucifer was the one who held the cards, and they were a piece to dominate the board with and to hold dominance over. </p><p>Sure, Lucifer wasn’t as on active duty as Asmodues, but he certainly wasn’t ever bereft of sexual partners to enjoy. He always had a gal on his arm, usually his most devoted lover, Lilith. Sometimes women-like beings weren’t enough, considering he was a wolf, and he would take men to his bed chambers or to a dark corner, just as easily.  </p><p>But he had never taken Beelz.  </p><p>And Prince really wanted to avoid that. It had been constant fighting off of his attentions for years, knowing that his lust was for what they held and nothing more.   </p><p>However, they knew they had to allow Lucifer his poorly invented affections be spent on them in little ways, submitting enough to satiate.  </p><p>After he struck them down and subsequently tried to soothe what he inflicted, he told them to, “take your time. I hear the doctor said you need to rest to heal those stitches my brother ruined.” He pet their head and brought their face close to look into Bell’s crystal blue eyes, breathing deep. “One day. One day, I’ll serve my stupid little brother’s head to you on a platter, my little Princess. Would you like that?” </p><p>He kissed them one more time, called for Dagon to tend to the Prince as carefully as she could. Drucilla did not hesitate to go to Beelzebub’s side but did not touch. Two sets of shoulders hunched, one set of eyes glued to Bellz quickly bruising jaw that was matching the one from Lucifer’s brother around their throat, ignoring all else. </p><p>“Hastur, Ligur, escort Mr. Morningstar out to his car.”  </p><p>“You okay, boss?” Dru whispered. </p><p>“Keep post till our master leaves.” They barked out, trying to keep their voice level, eyes on their leader. They didn’t move otherwise, watching him saunter from the room, without so much as a look over his shoulder. </p><p>Even though they were alone, they waited, listening to the clops of capped toe shoes moving down the stairs on the other side of the door. </p><p>“You’ve really been pushing your luck with the boss man lately, Bellz. What’re you on about, lately?” </p><p>Devine was a shark when it came to information, able to sniff a story out like one does blood in the water – and something was causing Dagon to take notice of Bee’s odd behavior as of late – with more obstacles and needing to take a step back, Beelzebub decided it was time to utilize her talents. It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of their search, just not current events. Looking Drucilla dead in the eye, Beelz gave up information they felt safe to trade to the master of using such things like ammunition. </p><p>“That Angelo boy, Jerahmeel, I think he saw something the night Tio went missing.” They admitted, “he was round his post when he saw them, according to the girl involved.” </p><p>“So?” </p><p>“Said she saw this strange man bumbling in the street. Mentioned Tio got in his face, because he bumped shoulders, ‘making’ the man drop something. Jerahmeel had to have seen something too, but keepzzz-...keeps focusing on Tio and Eishy.”  </p><p>Prince handed over a red card that they’d been carrying on their person ever since Eisheth Odda had handed it over to them. She hadn’t said much about it, declaring quickly that she never opened it. She had almost thrown it away and Eishy claimed to have forgotten about it, too involved in what was going on with her and Tio. That is, until Beelzebub showed up at her door, asking questions about something that Eishy had NOT forgotten to pawn away from its pair.  </p><p>In black ink scroll was a name elegantly scripted against the paper, only slightly smudged from water spots. It was a little splattered but clear to Bella...Their full given birth name.  </p><p>Isabella Verona Prince. </p><p>“This was for you.” Dagon looked up at her boss in shock, probably knowing more about Beelzebub’s past even over Mammon Billingsley. “Why didn’t you say anything?” </p><p>“Had to get a hold of Jerahmeel quick, before the idiot disappeared too. Eishy’zz been talking to more’an just me about being seen round him.” They grunted. </p><p>“Wondered why you shot the little shithead just shy of vital places and not to kill. You’re usually all killer diller with these things.” Devine voiced, certain that the underboss of their side of darkness wouldn’t have missed Jerahmeel with him sandwiched between two of their cars, even if shaking about like a jitterbug. It did lead her to wonder what that meant of the shot for the messenger. Bell was a better aim than that and could’ve taken him out at that range. But these were dangerous thoughts. </p><p>“Chozze to take care of him openly. Make him my priority publicly and see if I could haul him in.” </p><p>“Made a mess.” </p><p>“Don’t think I don’t know that, Dagon.” Their tone and use of her more demonic title was deadly, warning to back off.  </p><p>“What’s’it read?”  </p><p>“Go on.” </p><p>With the succinct nod of her boss’s head, Drucilla started to unfold the card. It was done in many precise folds, keeping it tightly locked, like an origami puzzle. A strange way to make a card, indeed, but part of the hobby fashion that was going round lately. When she opened the second to last row of major paper pressings, the card opened up, like a flower. It revealed to Beelzebub’s second a gruesome scene that looked fractal with all the paper’s folds, as though cutting into the very painful memory etched out on its telling red paper.  </p><p>It was of Beelzebub – no – Isabella Verona Prince cut open and laid out in their bathtub, shown bleeding out with their arms splayed over the sides of the tub for the world to see their most iconic markings he’d left them. </p><p>Whoever had drawn it was good. Accurate. This being drew it as though they had sat and did a still life of the event. And of course, only one being besides Beelzebub was as intimately familiar with the scene. </p><p>“He certainly has a way with art, don’t he?” </p><p>“Mmmm.” Beelzebub growled low, appearing unfazed.  </p><p>However, Dagon had learned enough of Beelzebub Prince to recognize the brimstone that was bubbling in their veins. Lucifer’s little Prince was just much better than most at keeping it tucked below the surface.  </p><p>She studied her boss then the card again, finding a little scribbled sentence at the bottom. </p><p>“’Your blood was the sweetest, like God’s gift to me.’” Drucilla made a face of disgust and saw another scribble in another corner, “’I miss the taste of your innocence...I failed protecting you from sullying it in darkness.’ Huh. Cute.”  </p><p>Bell huffed through their nose and rolled their eyes. “Weren’t innocent, even then.” </p><p>At that, Devine didn’t suppress her dark chuckle, “who of us were?”  </p><p>“I need to get a hold of that brat. Find what he remembers and find Tio.”  </p><p>Neither had moved from their spot on the floor, still hunched, and speaking quietly as though they were children telling a scary story.  </p><p>“Think HE got Tio?...” </p><p>A dark pause. </p><p>“Z’a possibility.” </p><p>Because of course that would be highly possible in their world. No one ends up missing unless they were in hiding or truly dead and gone. Or plotting. But it was usually because they got knocked off, and Tio wasn’t no big player and this shadow figure wouldn’t be this careless. No one would be surprised at this point if Tio Mattina was found in a ditch somewhere or with a special pair of cement shoes down past the docks.  </p><p>“Lucifer doesn’t know?” </p><p>“Not hizzz buzzinezzzz.” They shook their head. </p><p>“But-“ </p><p>“Z’unimportant. Don’t have anything more than ziz ztupid card, of which izz not the firzt.” </p><p>Devine was holding her hands up, not to placate Prince but wearily holding back what she needed to carefully say. “But it is for all the families.” Dagon studied the scarred demon-like being and fought with herself. “He’s still out there. He could hurt another. Other’s still innocent.” </p><p>“You act z’though I don’t know that.” Beelz snipped, “like I don’t know he’ll come back and take...take more and all, Dee.” </p><p>They raked a thin hand through their disheveled hair. They’d not styled it the last few days, more concerned with resting and work rather than keeping up appearances. It looked as wild as the deadly look in their cold blue eyes.  </p><p>“Which izz why it’zz imperative I get to Tio, firzt. The lezz people who know about him and thizz, the better chance I got at finding him alive. If he’zz zzeen the bazztard’zz face-” </p><p>“But-” </p><p>“Even if I can’t and I get a’hold of Jerry, I can learn more. Without either him or Tio, I only got Eishy’s word that they saw a suzzpizziouzzz bloke who got in their way while cavorting. And she was three sheetzz to the wind.” </p><p>The woman with her long red hair done up in tight finger curl bumps aside her head, giving an elegant look that still looked like a laurel around Drucilla’s ears and crown and the rest of her very long hair weaving down her back, looked back down at the card in her hand and sighed.  </p><p>“How do you even know this is really him, Bellz? Maybe it’s some arse who’s trying to spook you.” </p><p>“Who elzze could it be, Dee?” They bit out, looking their companion over, seeing the worry behind her eyes. “He likezz to be zhowy, he doez.” </p><p>They didn’t mention a thing about what else had tipped Bell to seek the other woman out. Found it in one of Abaddon’s shops he ran as a front. Antique shops that could swindle richer looking people out of a few decent clams, playing down value. And if they folded and wanted to take their business elsewhere...well...who’s to say talk wasn’t made and Beelzebub didn’t find something entertaining to do a few evenings later; depositing the new shiny piece in the back of the shop. Donny’s envy over what he couldn’t have certainly made Beelzebub’s nightlife more palatable sometimes.  </p><p>But this item, this little piece, stole their attention as soon as they got to the glass case on their way to his office. It caused them to halt in their tracks and Abaddon had asked if Bell had seen a ghost. In a way it was a ghost. Beelzebub was intimately familiar with this piece of silver and precious stones. It was worth a pretty penny, easy enough to catch a decent price. Unique. </p><p>A fly pendent. Big enough that the closed heart shaped wings opened as a locket, with the etched in initials of IVP on the underside. The eyes were red gems and the original owner had loved how it had looked against their black gown their mother had purchased special, to go with it. Still beneath the locket’s wings was a photo...one that made Prince bitter to look on the selfish bastard’s face again. The pendant had been specially purchased as a gift for... </p><p>They hadn’t seen it in years! Not since the incident, believing it was either taken into evidence or lost in the carnage. They had remembered holding it in their hands the night their world changed again, looking over his photo and debating peeling it out. The locket itself was maybe the only piece that had ever mattered to them. Prince demanded to know more, took it from Don without argument, and sought out the seller, leading to Eisheth and the note that Dagon now held in her hand. </p><p>It had meant to find its way back to Bella. </p><p>Dagon didn’t need to know about the broach though.  </p><p>“You’re right. Course.” </p><p>“He’z alwayzzz...He’s been doing this for years, going bout and leaving his little surprizzezz all over.” They glared at their subordinate, “But the only one’zz who know the crime scene are him, the copperz, and-” </p><p>“And The Times. And all who read that rag.” </p><p>“They only described it. It’weren’t photographed for posterity.” They growled low. “And z’not the first time he’s said ‘innocenzzze’ and ‘protecting’ bullshite. No one else knows that, lezz you’ve been singing.” </p><p>“I wouldn’t. Never.”  </p><p>The two got quiet for a bit and looked around the room, listening to cars going by on the street, before Drucilla said anything else.  </p><p>“It’s been a while...” </p><p>“Half a year...” </p><p>“You think he’s going to make a move against you this time?” She asked uncertainly, definitely worried. “He makes it out like he’s planning-” </p><p>“Not much to go on, but I don’t think he’s out to get me...He’d have done me in by now. Don’t think I’m his type no more.” They shrugged, non-committedly, “He’s made of smoke and mirrorzz, to me, and juzt likez to try and terrorizzze.” </p><p>“You’re his one who got away...” </p><p>Darker. Somehow the light of the dying day seemed to be failing quicker than it should and the room was getting darker.  </p><p>“Not the only one...” </p><p>“The only one he cared about. What are they called? The focus, or whatever?” Devine questioned, “That arse wasn’t a focus. Just an extension of a goal, your boogeyman got everything else he was looking for when he killed his target.” </p><p>“This bastard made sure to leave NO ONE. No one but him and me.” </p><p>“That dud wasn’t a focus, that bastard lucked out by being in another state, not escaping with his life.” </p><p>“That wazzn’t luck.” Beelzebub snarled, eyes wide, growl level. </p><p>“What are you implying then?” </p><p>“He wazz juzt az much a mistake.” The tiny Prince snarled, anger growing. </p><p>“Look, Bee, YOU weren’t supposed to survive, that arse didn’t matter. This shadow bastard keeps talking about sacrifices, and that’s you. You need to be careful and maybe shelter-”  </p><p>“Thizz iz not the firzt time you’ve seen this bullshit. What makezzz you think it warrantz hiding. I need to find the fucker.” They leveled the taller being with a glare, demanding of answers. </p><p>“You don’t let a sacrifice linger.” </p><p>“Still here, ain’t I? And so izz he and he’z’not touched him, neither.” </p><p>“Come on, that bastard was only a loose end. He was attached to the victim, but he wasn’t the intended.” Drucilla pressed, actually looking nervous. </p><p>Beelzebub tsked. The Shadowy figure hadn’t left their ex-fiancé, and their split wasn’t quite secret, only serving to make Bell question if there was any significance to this other, this man, to survive when his very attached lover did not. </p><p>“All loose endz get clipped.” </p><p>Both beings sighed, completely frustrated, because everything was possible and yet not.  </p><p>“What’zz important iz finding Tio so that maybe I can get one step clozzer to the bazzztard.” Beelzebub rubbed at one of their ‘stigmata’ scars. “Can’t wazzte thiz opportunity before it slips away.” </p><p>“...Ever think the other fucker could be your killer?” </p><p>The thought had crossed Beelzebub’s mind several times after learning of the man who escaped his fate, several years ago. But the very first time he had put his warm hands on them long before Beelz was a big player in the crime world, it spurred no connection, no memory. The demon who should not have been, shook their head, eyes on Devine but not quite seeing her. “Doezzn’t feel like it.” </p><p>Dru looked at them and turned the possibility over and over again, “Guess he puts his hands on you enough for you to know...” </p><p>The instance what she said registered Dagon snapped her mouth shut, nervous of the way it sounded, but Beelzebub seemed not to notice. </p><p>“You’ll help me find Tio...won’t you, Dee?” </p><p>A car horn outside disturbed the two hellions sitting on the floor, the only real movement was a languid look at the windows and doors. Simple habit of their lifestyles. </p><p>“Do you think he’s coming back to take another?” </p><p>“At any time. Don’t think he’s leaving me personal calling cards, just because he’s leaving me sick love letters, Dee.” </p><p>“Right...but, what if he is.” </p><p>“He’s been doing this for YEARZZ and never in tandem.” </p><p>The shadow from Beelzebub’s memory never left pieces that could herald the next butchering of a family with a pretty little angel left deformed and destroyed at the center of his macabre masterpiece. </p><p>Notes with the same handwriting, drawings, locks of hair – of who’s it sometimes looked unnervingly like Beelzebub’s and other times, someone else’s - or markings on walls. It was part of why Beelzebub never stayed in one place for more than a few months at a time. Never attached to one place, or things that couldn’t be replaced. Never got to have ANYTHING they wanted but the underworld that they could command and bury and paperwork.  </p><p>“When was the last, Bell? Do you remember?” </p><p>“Two years ago...The one before was half year prior.” </p><p>Prince briefly remembered what they had found just after the second to last one; it’d shown up the day of the family’s discovery. Fingernails painted almost black. The same color Beelzebub liked to do their own nails in. A black sapphire color, from the brand Chen Yu. They’d been left out on the living room table of the apartment they had kept for a few weeks. Ten perfectly painted nails all lined in a neat row. From what Bell could tell, they’d been painted after being torn off.  </p><p>“Suppose it is about time for him to make another appearance.” </p><p>“Fucking bazztard.”   </p><p>Though Beelzebub gave no other note of how they were feeling inside, not even a nervous nip of their lip, they felt their stomach do another flip. New discoveries linked to this shadowy figure of their nightmares never failed to deal them unease.  </p><p>This being vexed and haunted them the last nine years of their life, ten if Beelzebub counted the months in the coma where they were captive to dreams. </p><p>And did they ever dream... </p><p>Of large hands, ones that dwarfed their small form, touching and tugging at their body. Hands tearing at their hair, pushing them below the water, garbled screams that they were certain were their own. The sound of his breath in their ear and rough hands on their throat. Fingers where they shouldn’t have been. The cut of a blade, so familiar, even now, but never again as devastating as in those first slices wrought into their flesh by this monster. Digging claws into their back.  </p><p>In and out of consciousness and never knowing what was being lived and what was only invented nightmare.  </p><p>They couldn’t remember his face or voice though...Nothing of the man who robbed everything from Beelzebub. He was gone from them, leaving aftershocks of pain with more death. The only thing that the remade Prince of the underworld, the Mattina family underboss knew, was that this monster was one they intended to rip limb from limb.  </p><p>That was a promise. </p><p>A knock at the door, paired with a low rumble of thunder, made Bee and Drucilla tense up and wait for a response. Hastur and Ligur made their presence known, bumbling on the other side of the door waiting for admittance.  </p><p>Rain began to patter hard against the windows in earnest and it was back to the usual bad business. </p><p>**************************************** </p><p>Across the city, in a corner of Queen’s little notorious burial ground on Metropolitan Avenue and 8th street, was a torn up and solemn figure standing in the rain at a not so modest headstone, of St. John’s Cemetery.  </p><p>It’s the same slate grey as many darting the soil of the unholiest of holy places, where many of the families bury their kith and kin, but to one Gabriel Angelo, it’s the saddest little headstone that didn’t deserve to be there most of all, turning darker under the pelting rain. To Gabriel, there was someone else who should have been laid to rest in this spot. Someone he’d give to God or the Devil if it meant the being he found most beautiful’s life was saved instead, lord knew that the other shouldn’t have been breathing. </p><p>“Forgive me, for my cruel thoughts, Almighty Father of all.” </p><p>“You alright, Gabe?” </p><p>Barely a look over his shoulder and a slight nod, “I’m okay, Sandy. Give me a minute?”  </p><p>The enforcer, his uncle and watcher, took a tentative step back. He hated that Sandy was always underfoot, even if he understood the need to have someone at his six.  </p><p>“If you’re sure…” </p><p>“Yeah…” </p><p>Gabriel took his moment to look on the headstone of his late wife, Grazia “Gracie” Angelo. The woman who had meant everything to the hand that dealt death to those he deemed more wicked than he. </p><p>Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if this was penance for who he was. Gracie had been so innocent and sweet and everything Gabriel was not. Patient like the salt from the sea eroding the grooves of a cliff side, kind to those in need, no matter who they were or their standing.  </p><p>He thought he was a schmuck who didn’t deserve her, but for some reason, this Princess didn’t see him as the scum of the earth that he knew he was. And because of it, the family they had, that they were supposed to have, was nothing but a dream.  </p><p>The shadow took her and all his hopes with her. </p><p>This monster of the underworld had brutally taken her from him and left him with Beelzebub in her place. The only other being to walk the planet, twisted into some mangled reincarnation, to have survived.  </p><p>Every time he looked at Beelzebub he was reminded of his loss. They shouldn’t have been there. He wondered what it would have been like if Gracie had survived instead. If the scars would have been enough to hurt him or if he’d be grateful for each one as it would mean she was still there. </p><p>He didn’t know.  </p><p>Instead, he watched her gravestone get darker in the turned weather and started to dig up the dead flowers that stuck out of her grave to replace with something for the coming months, the earth wasn’t too cold to stop him yet. He had known it’d rain; he had hoped for rain. So, he could dig and get his anger out, his frustrations, in some other form of physical exertion, because if not he’d think of Bell. </p><p>Everything that Gracie was, Bell most certainly was not. </p><p>It wasn’t just personalities – which Gabriel had no clue if the surly little gremlin had been different prior to their near-death event – they were opposites in every other way too. Grazia was tall and curvy, elegant in every way, like Grace Kelly; she was a real refined lady. Bee was clearly short, slim, delicate looking, as though they could have snapped between his fingers, but oh so powerful and in no way a woman. Gracie was soft in touch and mannerisms and Bee was rough and fierce. His wife had skin with a healthy hue whereas his adversary was as pale as the death they evaded. </p><p>The thought of Bee’s slim body in his arms always made him feel guilty for reasons he couldn’t understand, only that his draw to them was magnetic. They held his attentions in ways they shouldn’t. </p><p>And Gracie was buried beneath the soil alone while Beelzebub still drew air in their lungs, all because Gabriel wasn’t home that fateful night. He was on a job, the watchers he’d set to keep her safe while away had failed, all dead, throats slit or with a bullet at the back of the skull. And she was left in the tub, just like Bee had been, ‘wings’ cut out, and stigmata wounds punctured through her limbs. Gabriel didn’t even get to see her body before she was buried, Nonna had forbidden it.  </p><p>So now he knelt in the dirt feeling as hollowed out as he dug and dug to pull out the dead plant…and saw there had been a disturbed corner of the grave, the dirt freshly unsettled.  </p><p>“Hey Sandy? Buddy? Anyone else been down here since I last was?” </p><p>“Not to my knowledge.” </p><p>“Sure Aziraphale hasn’t visited?” </p><p>“If he didn’t tell you…” </p><p>Aziraphale would have told him, brought her new flowers and have already planted them. He had been fond of Grazia in life, always chattering away about good books and gossip like a couple of old mums. He would have said something... </p><p>Gabriel started to dig away at the corner quickly and carefully… </p><p>To find a red card…wrapped in military grade plastic to protect it from the elements…and a wedding band...Her wedding ring... </p><p>And the world got a little darker for the messenger…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OoooooooEEEEEEEEEooooooo!<br/>Michael certainly worked some of that charm, didn’t she? I can just imagine that Michael is a very smooth operator. I mean, she would have to be to gain informants. So, I made her out to be smooth, with the ability to be hard and couth, that will come later. Also, I wanted to note her stockings because at the time had the seam and would be held up by garters. Sometimes people would paint the lines up the back of their legs. </p><p>Dehiscence is when a stitched wound starts to open.<br/>Evisceration is when stitches completely open. This does usually turn very life-threatening and dangerous and you should immediately call for an ambulance. In Bee’s case, that would be a terrible decision and not as necessary for a bullet wound stitch, even though Gabriel really digs into them, so they go to the underground doctor of their family.  </p><p>The one last random note I wanted to share is that the owner of The Stork Club, the real Billingsley, did give gifts to patrons. Very high priced ones too. </p><p>Lucifer is ALWAYS going to be a bastard to me. He’s not as unhinged here as he is in my other fic, but just as much of a manipulator. Like his twin sister, he is a smooth talker, but you know that there is always something he wants. </p><p>His relationship with Bell is a strange one. They definitely believe he is trying to manipulate them to have better control over their holdings. And I don’t see him as someone to give power easily. Bee is powerful in their own right and has a different dynamic than the other Princes of Lucifer’s underworld branch, so his lusting after them seems to Bee more about dominance and power. </p><p>I’ve been trying to be careful with how I use demon and angel names, picking out particular ones that are easy to cross use and spin more Italian sounding, without being disrespectful to the cultures some are taken from, picking facts about the ethereals to pair with their names. For instance, in this chapter I used Eisheth Odda. I actually took it from Eisheth in the Kabbalah, who is an eater of the damned.  </p><p>The name I picked to be Bee’s birth name was very particular. I had so much fun picking out another character’s name in my other fic and wanted to be just as particular about Bee’s. Isabella means “beauty, pledged to god” and so I wanted to be very careful of name meaning for their middle name of  </p><p>Origami was getting popular, worldwide, in the 1900s but was made particularly popular in the early 1950s (in the US specifically) most notably by Lillian Oppenheimer. A niche hobby at the time, but something people were gravitating to. </p><p>Chen Yu was an American brand of nail polish from the 40s and 50s. I chose the color black sapphire because it was a really dark deep red, almost black. </p><p>The hairstyle I was trying to depict for Dagon (aka Drucilla Devine) has their hair fashioned is, is this one. I picked it because it’s classy but also...reminds me of the Creature of the Black Lagoon. It’s PERFECT for Dagon! Okay?! https://www.iknowhair.com/1940s-hairstyles/ </p><p>St John’s cemetery is the eternal resting spot for many interesting characters, most of them crime folk. I figured the Angelo’s would be buried there. </p><p>Plastic wrap wasn’t introduced to the general population until 1949 but was commonly used in the military shortly after 33. Hence why I say that the plastic wrap used on the red card is military grade XD </p><p>But! The most important question is…what’s in Gabriel’s red card? </p><p>What does it all mean?! </p><p> </p><p>1940’s, LGBTQA, &amp; Italian Slang Lexicon </p><p>Beat cop = Patrolling officers from specific territory. </p><p>Switch stations = When calling the police stations, emergency calls would be brought in by switch boards. </p><p>Bird = lady. </p><p>Wolf = Sexually aggressive type, a top. In gay relationships, this person was seen as the dominant or penetrative partner. </p><p>Active duty = sexually promiscuous man. </p><p>Killer diller = the best, amazing. (I also wanted it for the sound of it, because Bee is meant to be a ruthless killer. </p><p>Underboss = Beelzebub is considered the underboss, under Lucifer. His second in command. </p><p>Jitterbug = a type of fast dance or fast dancer. </p><p>Up a creak with a paddle = lost, started out as an idiom used mostly by military grunts. </p><p>Three sheets to the wind = drunk. It started out as jargon for sailors, meaning the three sails being let loose. </p><p>The Times = The New York Times. </p><p>Clams = money. </p><p>I HOPE you’re enjoying this story so far. You know me (if you read my other fics) I get carried away with my writing but I’m having a lot of fun with all the facts I’m slipping in. I’d love to hear what you think of the story so far, I’m really enjoying everyone’s comments and what they’re catching...I’m very curious to know your thoughts after this....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pasts Ring & Sings Through</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A card for a demon and a card for the messenger. What do they bring?  </p><p>Gabriel has to keep things on the down low but can never rest when presented with a message from his worst nightmare. With no hope of receiving actual answers he digs around for clues on another enemy who is always trying to make at least something dig into Gabriel. </p><p>A few familiar faces end up in his office, and a few talks are had. </p><p>Meanwhile, Beelzebub is taking a walk...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for physical and gun violence, it gets a little rough towards the end really.  </p><p>I do mention more about this Shadow person’s M.O. </p><p>And mafia related business including drug running and the like.  </p><p>I am adding a song I feel like suits this story is Trouble Ahead by Joanna Jones. I did suggest it for a chapter in When World’s Collide but I think it works great for this too. </p><p>This took a while because I got a bit hung up on jobs to give. Had to churn in my head how to use the people brought into this chapter, wanting to play on some Good Omens points and show off Gabriel’s cluelessness, his business demeanor, and some slight manipulative behavior. Gabriel is NOT NICE, but no one really is in this fic, everyone is a bit of an asshole. I’m just having fun in how I use their self-centered behaviors in a 40s NY mafia setting.  </p><p>I didn’t want to bog certain writing down with descriptors for clothes so I added them to the notes at the bottoms. I’m in love with the hat I finally found the name of for Bee. Please take a look at it. I just have the urge to wear 40s things now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I know it’s wicked early, Joheol, I’m sorry. Just needed to check on you and the kids.” A pause and tired chatter could be heard on the other line. “I know, it’s six-thirty in the morning, I’m sorry. I did call Haniel too, yep.” Another pause, and Aziraphale tottled in in uncertainty, finding the door being closed behind him by uncle Sandalphon. “Yeah, she’s fine. The squirt’s gotten too big for her britches, but she asks after you and the kids. Says she was worried about her bosom buddy, Sabriel, getting cold feet so close to her wedding; told her I’d give a call.” </p><p>Less aggravated sounds and Gabriel’s tight smile eased a little.  </p><p>“Yeah, I’ll make sure someone looks after them both. Yup. Yeah. Have a good morning.” The instance he hung up, Gabriel inflated despite looking like he’d do the opposite, and strange lavender eyes glued to his little cousin. “Aziraphale! Hey, buddy! How’s the...the...” </p><p>“He’s opened a bookshop.” Sandalphon intoned. </p><p>“Bookshop! Right! How is it?” </p><p>“It’s going well. I’ve gotten it well stocked with a little bit of everything.” </p><p>“Excellent to hear! Planning on selling Adonis and Bizarre in there? It’d be good for business, I’m sure.” </p><p>Aziraphale squinted, trying to remember if he’d ever seen those and assuming they were comics, judging by the name. “I’m not familiar with those particular prints. Don’t quite know if...I’d sell...” </p><p>“Pornography.” Sandalphon supplied in the background, making Aziraphale’s teeth grit. Though he’d gotten rather good at keeping a poker face, hearing such a thing being pronounced so cavalier behind him made him almost jump out of his skin. Gabriel merely stealed his smile and snapped his fingers, ending in fingerguns aimed at Aziraphale. </p><p>“Yes. Pornography.” </p><p>Aziraphale tried his best to not strain his own smile too much, “I don’t think my place is the type to market such an affair. More like antiques and vintage print.” </p><p>“Sure, but neither is a smoke shop for gambling, nor a cheese distributer for some dynamite. A bookstore, such as yours, would be perfect cover.” Gabriel pinned Aziraphale with those sharp purple eyes that meant business even as he shuffled a few documents and address book into order on his desk. </p><p>“I think, considering how the shop appears...something like that-” </p><p>“There are many of the opposition who sell dirty rags and the sort. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He said, holding his hands up, “your choice.” </p><p>“I see the appeal; perhaps a few...” </p><p>The messenger was indeed pleased, “You’ll hardly know they’re there.” </p><p>“Gabriel, is everything alright?” Zira asked as he studied his cousin, “You sounded...tense over the phone and I doubt it was because of a bit of…pornography.” </p><p>The one everyone thought to be Nonna’s finest, looked a little frazzled behind his too plastered on smile and his tidy suit that didn’t look as pressed as it had the day before revealed more. Gabriel hadn’t been home, it seemed, and everything going on around him was enough to forget his usually pristine appearance. “We’re good. Good.” Angelo gestured about the seat before the desk, “I hear you’ve been keeping good tabs on the family, so I wanted to borrow you for a little bit. Think you can help me?” </p><p>“I don’t know, what exactly does it entail, and I will see how I may best attend you.” </p><p>“That’s the spirit!” Gabriel clapped his hands and Aziraphale could TELL the stress was indeed high. The more exuberant his older cousin got the higher the stress level. But that only read that way to close family members. “Now, I’m not short of men, but I could use a few most trusted. You know who’s got kids and young adults in the family, right?” </p><p>Silence, because Aziraphale had no clue what was going on. He remembered hearing from Jeg that Gabriel was in trouble after some nonsense going down at The Stork Club. Zira assumed he was going to be laid up or doing some rather focused tasks on the business front. </p><p>“I suppose.” </p><p>A tight draw of his lips, eyes hardening at the edges, and the short, blonde, Italian boy who was more prone to sitting with tea and biscuits and a good book could read this was going somewhere that he’d really rather it didn’t. It was about to spill from his ebullient cousin. </p><p>“Just need a list, you know, who’s got scamps running about. Oh! Would you know who’s getting married, by chance? You know, just down to the last soldier and associate’s immediate family.” The next head of family rattled out, voice succinct, and steady, like the good soldier Gabriel really was. “I feel like you would know.” </p><p>“I may be familiar...why, might I ask?” </p><p>Gabriel’s eyes shifted to look at Sandalphon, making Aziraphale nervous and desperate to not look back. Uncle Sandy always creeped Aziraphale out, even when he was only a slightly older in comparison to the rest of the gang as children. He was only a few years older than Gabriel and Michael and Luc – a late child to an older couple – but when he hit his mid-thirties, he aged faster. Zira always scolded himself that it was just because Sandy was just so much older than himself, Azriaphale being the youngest of most that generation, but Sandalphon’s constantly surveying eyes always made him uncomfortable. His own wandering eyes found Gabriel’s desk mirror and he spied the enforcer too close behind him, eyes boring into the back of his curly head.  </p><p>Looking back at Gabriel, finding his contrary stoic smile still tight and calculated, Aziraphale refocused. </p><p>“...Mmmm,” All Gabriel could think was, Aziraphale was soft, he would be trustworthy with information to take care of people but not under a lot of pressure. If word got out about Gabriel’s latest letter from the Shadow figure, it could put their family in more danger. “Just need to keep tabs...one of our informants let on the cops are doing a roundup of our people’s kids and have been harassing the older ones. They’re trying to make legitimate claims that they need to go downtown, particularly the lady-like folk. Think it’s a concern.”  </p><p>Not untrue. There had been a new order from some judge to snatch up the children of known mafioso and initiates. Their family’s families tend to have two to three children and young adults. This was a good concern to use as a cover. Gabriel just really didn’t want to have to go to the crime scene where he’d look on another dead family... </p><p>“I see...Yes, well, I think then a little checkup is in order. Is there someone who’s calling round for you?” </p><p>“Doing rounds myself. I need a list.” He said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. It sometimes felt to Gabriel like he and his cousin spoke in circles; feeling like Zira, for all his book smarts, was rather dense. Which made him perfect in some instances when questioned and why Gabriel sought to utilize him.  </p><p>“I think I’m up to date on many. And forgive me Gabriel, but…shouldn’t someone already have a list of all the family’s family?” </p><p>“Pppffff. Not my department to keep track of who’s got who. But I have it on good authority that you know a great deal, Aziraphale. Social butterfly that you are.” </p><p>“Yes, well...” He smiled nervously, “would you like if I gave everyone a call-Or I can go and check on a few? I’m actually supposed to host a little book club with Tennin and her little crew today.” </p><p>Gabriel’s cheeks puffed up, truly grateful for a little help that could be seen as innocuous to the common eye, and it showed. Aziraphale was a good agent for that, hardly ever wanting to get his hands dirty so he was often used for minor things that he went about with an air of disassociation. No one ever suspected Aziraphale Angelo to be up to no good!...Mainly because he didn’t know what he was up to half the time himself. </p><p>“Really, Zira, I would...thank you. I have a few things to attend to – what with everything that happened at Rocco’s and then down at Luci’s place – I'm swamped.” Having to go open a wound sent to him by his enemy...“I really appreciate if you could report back to me how everyone’s doing.” Gabriel annunciated all this as he waved his hands about. </p><p>“The least I could do.” Zira declared, rather happy to help in this instance. “Is that all?” </p><p>“Oh sure! And, hey, if you can just maybe make me a list of all the brides-to-be and newly married ladies, as well? I’ll have a little something put together for each.” Gabriel declared, clapping his hands again as he went to get up. He was HOPING all those gifts would be able to be received.  </p><p>“Not an issue.”  </p><p>The shorter Angelo got to his feet, shook Gabriel’s hand – getting clapped too heartily on the shoulder, as usual – and hobbled his way to the door; doing an awkward side-step with Sandalphon a few times before being let out. </p><p>“Thank you, Aziraphale!” Gabriel called out in his falsely merry veneer, dropping it as soon as the door was closed behind his cousin. As soon as they were alone, Sandalphon was giving him a look.  </p><p>“Are you sure Zira is for the job? He’s always had his head in the clouds, as it were.” </p><p>“Nah. He’s perfect for it. Disarms people, what with his face like that and looking so...soft.” He said, taking out a stack of paperwork that needed to be tended to. The numbers for Rocco’s and the linens company needed going over, keeping the books up to date and the shops running. Gabriel also had just gotten the newest files for The Glass Room, which was a smoke shop with a few tables in the back. There was a recent near fumble where Imamiah had somehow sensed shit was about to hit the fan and got her men out of there, avoiding a racketeering rap. It was good for them, but made things need to play closer to the chest for a while. Gabriel just wanted to bury himself in regular work while he had others around. The newest red card was burning a hole in his pocket, but he refused to open it with anyone else in the room.  </p><p>Thankfully, someone else sauntered in all high and mighty to distract him from his troubles; cladding a form with kitten heels and a bit of gold eyeshadow. </p><p>“Gabriel? Can I come in?” </p><p>“Michael! How’s tricks?” </p><p>“You should be more concerned about your own. Heard about someone doing exactly as he’s not supposed to and definitely playing in the dirt.” She said, eyeing Sandalphon, because it was no secret where she heard this info from. Gabriel gave a half-hearted glare, knowing that Sandy was just looking out for him and that, of course, Michael would be told. </p><p>“Had to ground myself with a little grunt work. Grace always liked Christmas poinsettias, figured it’d make it real pretty when the snow came.” He shrugged off with a small smile, “Here to give me another earful? The doc’s saying, I need to be treated tenderly, boss.” </p><p>“Just paying a visit because I have something of interest to you.” She lay out the manilla envelope before gingerly laying a hand on Gabriel’s wounded shoulder, “You really have me worried, dove. Should be resting up and not...not chasing ghosts.”  </p><p>“I’m alright. Hand to God.” A beaming smile up at his sister and he was patting her hand affectionately, “And I swear, I’m just-eeehh-getting a little dirt on a little bug. When they’re dust, they can be the ghost.” He chuckled at his little morbid joke that Sandalphon joined in on, only serving to make Gabriel snicker more because he had grown accustomed to his uncle’s awkwardness.  </p><p>“Gabe.” She eyed him, tapping long fingers on his shoulder, “I just want to make sure this little fixation on THEM is just a...bug in the ear, as it were. You two have been at each other’s throats a lot recently.” </p><p>“Hey, I’m not the one to start it this time.” Gabriel shot with his hands up, “I’m not the one who came barreling out with knives and cars. Damn motorized freckle has it out for me.” </p><p>She scrutinized him. Michael knew him better than anyone else, better than Nonna – or so he thought – and he could feel her disbelief hanging on the tip of her tongue. “Promise me you’ll keep out of trouble with this one.” She got up, playfully inflicting a little harm with her grip squeezing Gabriel’s wounded shoulder, “At least keep your nose clean for a week. Or, you know, duck. You make too broad a target with all those shoulders and that big, empty noggin of yours.” </p><p>A quirky chuckle came from the doorway and a, “She has a point, Gabe. Ducking would be good.” </p><p>Anyone beside Michael, Uriel, or Selaphiel, and Gabriel would have been angry at the ribbing. Instead, he only smiled and made a face at his sister, ignoring Sandy.  </p><p>“I’ll try. That depends on the wiley beast Luci’s got on a chain. They bite.” </p><p>“Vicious.” Sandy added, with a smile, earning a frown from Michael leveled at both. </p><p>“Well, you know of the saying, ‘don’t shoot the messenger,’ right? Make it a practice so it doesn’t need to be said.”  </p><p>“In this garbage business? You’re a gas, Mike.” Gabriel laughed, “That for me too?” </p><p>“Came up with a surprise.” She said as she lay out a book wrapped in brown bag and twine on Gabe’s desk, but he didn’t touch. “Heard from some friends that they had recently gotten hold of some odds and ends. Thought you’d appreciate this in particular.” Michael said was a triumphant smile, but then she was switching gears as precisely as any getaway driver with a turn of her perfectly coifed head to Sandy. “By the way, Sandalphon, do you mind accompanying Uriel? There’s a bit of a snafu down at the Eve’s again.” </p><p>Gabriel’s head raised to the Heavens as he sighed in frustration. “Keep to the streets, Sandy, and take Bara with you as well, she’s good at talking Eve down.” </p><p>“Roger that, boss.” </p><p>“Stay out of trouble, Gabe. I mean it.” Michael said with a pointed glare on her way out, making Gabriel use that ‘get out of jail free’ smile he knew worked on everyone. Most everyone. He waved them out. </p><p>He knew she took Sandalphon with her to give him a bit of reprieve and privacy but knew well enough that his privacy extended only so far. Michael had eyes EVERYWHERE and if Gabe so much as toed the doorframe for anything more than a trip home or note to his staff, she’d be informed. Then Gabriel’d be in real trouble.  </p><p>Finally, alone, Gabriel went over to his jacket and took the newest declaration of depravity and threw it unceremoniously onto the middle of his grey desk pad next to what Michael brought him, then to the tall vault hidden in the wall behind the full-length mirror that appeared mounted. It was a good way to throw people off with the way he installed it. People looked at paintings to study, others who feared looking vain avoided looking into other people’s mirrors, particularly when it was so strikingly large. Many already assumed Gabriel was a vain fucker, so he used that to his advantage.  </p><p>Turning back, the red card...stood out against the more muted colors on the desk, confronting him.  </p><p>Gabriel hadn’t had a chance to open it since he dug it out of the earth, not even to take out his wife’s ring which he had been itching to retrieve. He hadn’t really been left alone to do so, not trusting anyone to know the one dubbed the Messenger of Death to be getting delivered messages from some haunting Shadow figure. This one from the grave.  </p><p>Contained within the folder he dug out of the vault was a packet of more cards, one for every death since Gracie’s. He didn’t know why he had always received them since her death, but received them he did, all tied in a black bow; this last one was a bit different in delivery, never having found them at the grave of his wife. But that was the only new thing about it. Never having received...gifts before either. </p><p>It made Angelo FURIOUS.  </p><p>Thoughts of how this bastard could DARE defile Gabriel’s wife’s burial and body in such a way, boiled his blood. Grace was supposed to have been buried with her ring...But the gravesite hadn’t been disturbed in any other way, so the only thing he could think was her ring had been stolen PRIOR to her burial. Her funeral had been closed casket, so it limited who’d have access. That meant that her ring had been with her killer for about ten years...it made Gabriel feel sick, so he dismissed it until he could get his hands on the sick fucker. </p><p>Finally sitting with all his own puzzle pieces, he opened the newest card’s packaging.  </p><p>It took him a moment to feel the coldness of the metal band to seep into the skin of his palm before he inspected it, saw for a moment the double G’s and the heart between. And a breath. After a while of staring, he pocketed it to mourn later in the privacy of his own house. </p><p>Then on to the red card, believing he knew what he’d find, only to be mildly shocked by the grotesque scene he had partially expected. Gabriel studied it in all its bizarre wonder. It looked to be no different than the one he received the day Isabella Prince was murdered to be reincarnated as Beelzebub. He had received that one the morning of but wasn’t home to see it arrive, having thrown himself into work to avoid feeling anything after Grace’s murder only a year prior.  </p><p>The body looked just like Prince, and the image concerned him extra. He wondered if he was going to go after them again, finish the job, but factors didn’t quite add up. </p><p>They were not an innocent anymore. And as far as Gabriel knew, weren’t going to get married. He and all of the Underworld would have been made aware of that spectacle.  </p><p>When it happened the first time from what had been fished around for was that Bee had been near about nineteen/twenty years old, publicly went by she and her pronouns and Isabella, and, from the things Michael had just dug up for Gabriel, just as sweet looking as the rest of the victims but by their own brand of ‘sweet.’  </p><p>Looking through what Michael hand delivered, he found their high school yearbook was what was wrapped in brown paper. It showed them sporting a mischievous little smirk and a glamorous hairstyle like Gene Tierney – now wearing something more like Mary Astor – one photo revealed them in a red gown with black sash, and flowers in their shoulder-length hair, mouth open and arms wide with a group of people around them, dressed similarly in gowns. Their getup was clearly of high school quality and funny to see how Prince looked all gussied up like that. The page had a banner font for the play “Du Barry was a Lady” above a grouping of pictures showcasing the student talent. On the side had all the actors and members of the crew, and second from the top was Isabella Prince’s name listed next to Madame Du Barry. </p><p>Prince was included in the school’s accolades to include best voice and some mention of Bella going on to the Met to perform with some opera star, Adam Didur, and tutelage under one of the best of the time. It was all high accomplishments for someone of their background. Thinking over how Bee usually sounded, Gabriel wondered just how they managed all the theatrics when their lisp got out of control. He'd knew it couldn't have been developed but it seemed like despite it Bell worked around it and managed to land a gig that huge a deal. They and their family weren’t really known in any of the families’ circles. Bella’s mother was well off enough and had married an Italian man that came to the states as a lowly initiate. Not much really to know about them.</p><p>Michael really scored an interesting find with this one. He’d be hard pressed not to start giggling as he was now, the next time they came in contact with one another. Gabriel would have a difficult time not bursting into song; he knew at least the “madame, madame, madame du Barry,” part. Beelzebub would probably hunt him down and murder him, but part of him – the part that liked to tease the petite, angry being mercilessly – thought it would be worth the risk. The messenger ignored the urge to analyze the glamorous headshot on one of the last pages, seeing Bella command the viewer to witness them, even while so young, head against their folded hands with their striking eyes piercing the viewer from the past. They looked like they had it all figured out and were ready to revel in their good fortune. </p><p>Not only were they supposed to be some starlet, Isabella was engaged to marry.  </p><p>Some drip named Vicco Columbo, great grandson of THE Terry Columbo, head of the family bearing the same name. Vicco was a ponce and wasn’t known to be any sort of good egg. Thought he was a hotshot due to his status and, from having met him a few times before his demise, Gabriel knew Vic would probably have tried to be controlling or have bored Bee to tears. It wasn’t meant to happen anyway; someone else robbed Bella Prince of any chance of finding out if they’d have lived a happy life. </p><p>Same day that Isabella took their last breath, Vicco was already dead four hours prior. Brutally stabbed to death on what many had at first assumed was a job. Later it was learned that Columbo was out to see a dame he’d been seeing. Whether or not that had started before breaking things off with Prince wasn’t his business. However, the discovered tryst had only been about half a month since him and Isabella had been splitsville; having been together for two years, the engagement period starting shortly after Bella’s eighteenth birthday. From what Gabriel had heard, it was an arranged marriage, but Bella Prince had been the one sweet on Columbo.  </p><p>One of the newly acquired photos of the two lay in the folder – having a file on each victim and their families, he’d dug these things up – and he saw the way they leaned against Vicco. A sweet looking floral dress on their petite, unmarked frame, their hair waving about their equally sweet, cherubic face. Isabella was looking only at Vicco with a soft smile on their lips and cheek on his shoulder, while he laughed boyish-ly at the camera.  </p><p>Something about the couples’ innocent looking photo put Gabriel in a foul mood. Bee was too young for Vic at the time. They may have looked and been innocent enough, but he knew the yuck next to them from his already long rap sheet and thought he was a pervy little asshole. He had been twenty-six by the end and had already performed well for the Columbo gang including one that ended with Gabriel’s older cousin Phanuel in a puddle of his own blood, he was a shoo-in for next in line being the oldest grandson. Isabella Prince, whatever they may have kept in the darkest pits of their black heart before, looked like they fell in love and enjoyed a date at Coney Island with the wind in their hair as the Cyclone coaster dove, their hands far from the safety bar. Or as though they liked to take a picnic they’d interrupt and go running barefoot through the woods, in a peel of bubbling laughter.  </p><p>Thinking how Vicco Columbo was the schmuck who potentially got to see that side of Bee, then dumping them for whatever reason miffed the messenger.  </p><p>It was really difficult to believe the petite being in the photos was the same who’d just recently stabbed into his forearm with a fervent, angry bloodlust.  </p><p>It wasn’t very relevant though. What was, threw Gabriel off because the intended pair had already separated prior to when the Shadow attacked that night. It was no secret, the two had a very loud breakup in the Savoy Dance Hall and had been spread through the families as fair gossip. Prince was heard to be all dolled up to the nines, but Vic was intoxicated and left Bella a mess, but no one knew why. If Gabriel had never seen the photos of Bell in a cute dress of flowers, he’d have never believed it, and barely believed that people reported them crying. But the breakup had been real.  </p><p>Vic still paid the price though. </p><p>Whereas Angelo and his wife had courted for three years and then married for not even two months, yet Gabriel didn’t even incur a scratch. </p><p>The others the Shadow attacked over the years? All dead. Beelzebub and Gabriel really were the only two anomalies. Bee because they happened to miraculously SURVIVE when they really shouldn’t and Gabe because he remained untouched. Nary a scratch on him. </p><p>All the other murder victims dealt with as Bee had been, all had been on the road to marriage or newlywed. It didn’t seem relevant if family of the woman and woman-appearing victims were in the same location, they were still murdered prior to the intended. Even Gracie’s mother, father, and younger brother were killed a few hours before in their own home.  </p><p>He’d asked Raguel and his brother if there were any other cases that seemed similar with single victims being found mutilated in a bathtub or strange lacerations, but no dice. This murderer was specific. Kill the one to marry – or married to – the ‘main victim,’ then the father (who was usually away for work), the mother before the children, who were usually all taken out as quietly as possible, and the final victim was always found in the tub. All within a few hours or a day at most, but easily linked.  </p><p>But maybe the Shadow had only allowed Prince to survive this long. </p><p><em>What is he playing at?</em> </p><p>After looking through all the folders for hours, looking for other hints to point him in a direction as to any suspicious behavior reported prior, he gave up with a headache. The only other person alive that could tell Gabriel was himself and a demon who would probably stab him on sight. Probably have that little quirk of their red-painted lips while they did it too.  </p><p>The messenger put everything away back in his safe, not including the newest ‘message,’ nor the ring, and trudged out. He called to his men outside that he was, “going home for the night. Gotta get some shut eye,” and threw his jacket and dusty blue fedora on and was out the door.  </p><p>However, he didn’t make his way home. He deviated his path to head to the other side of the city, hoping to catch sight of a surly, diminutive demon who he’d heard could be spied traipsing the streets like an angry looking sentinel from time to time. It wasn’t often, and Gabriel honestly didn’t think he’d luck out on a night so soon after their fight at The Stork, but he needed to at least look into their too blue eyes. The red card in his breast pocket felt like a weight against his chest and not even the wet streets of Queen’s soaking his leather woven oxfords was enough to distract.  </p><p><em>Just a glimpse. That’s all I need.</em> </p><p>It wasn’t every day that you saw your adversary drawn lying dead in a bathtub of their own blood, like some macabre prophecy. Nevermind twice. The first time he had seen Bella’s first card and subsequently meeting Beelzebub had been disturbing enough. This? This second card? Doubly disturbed the messenger. Enough so to make Gabriel need to go out of his way and SEE if they were still walking and talking.  </p><p>It was one thing to be done in by another hitman, another mafioso, to go after them himself but a whole other to Gabriel for a monster the likes of this mystery man to be stalking one of their own. </p><p>Turning another corner, he was beginning to wonder if he was being ridiculous. That perhaps Michael was right and he was too engrossed in their bizarre feud. That Angelo shouldn’t go looking for trouble, even if it was to check on his adversary. To him Bell was as good as dead to him anyway. Just another schmuck to end up dead on a street corner or restaurant or something like that, riddled with bullet holes. Just like any other of the top dogs not lucky enough to retire some place where no one’s heard of people like them. Like Florida. </p><p><em>Who goes to look in on their enemy anyway?!</em> </p><p>He growled in the back of his head. But the feel of that heavy red cardstock next to his heart made him think that, though he planned to lay Beelzebub out in the grave they should have decayed in over the last ten years, it would be far too cruel to allow this...Shadow to be the one to deal death. Not that Gabriel had any entitlement to Beelzebub’s death.  </p><p><em>It could happen to any of us at any time. And it could be them by my hand, or me by theirs-Hell! By someone else’s.</em> </p><p>The rather tall and noticeable angel of death griped as he bumped through the still busy streets. It was then he noticed a purple cheeked demon crossing the road, face forward and red scarf wrapped around their bruised face. They were wearing a pair of red rimmed, black lensed cheaters obscuring their eyes and a Swedish-syle black fedora. Enough to cover but not create a blind spot on their vision. None of it really covered their scars or the bruise on their jaw and cheek. It looked fresh and he didn’t remember landing a blow on them like that.  </p><p>A vision of them below him at The Stork Club, Beelzebub’s vicious snarl on their face and his large hands wrapped around their throat instead of that warm looking scarf, played out in his head and his fingers twitched. Gabriel remembered exactly what parts of their body he’d held, how they struggled, and he grimaced. Despite it being the life he knew, Angelo wasn’t one of those types who always enjoyed or got off on hurting people. The only time he enjoyed it was when he was dealing with some really sick fucker.  </p><p>Sure, there were plenty like the latter in their lot, but there were some who didn’t do what their hand wasn’t forced to do. It was usually just business.  </p><p> Angelo watched as they kept their head low, how their head tilted just slightly enough to check reflections of their surroundings in the darkened glass, the streetlights allowing for refraction. It was then he was able to see just how their weight shifted awkwardly, probably from the bags they carried, wondering how extensive the wounds he had dealt actually was. They had a satchel and one of those net shopping bags that clearly held food in it. </p><p>It should have been enough. It would have been stupid to follow them without plans, with orders from ‘above’ as it were to leave them alone for now, especially when they were both in another family’s territory. That was stupid. However, Gabriel got on his tangents just like every other member of the Angelo family when it got to one particular enemy or another and followed, telling himself: </p><p><em>Just one more block. I know they’re a demon of the night and all that bullshit they all like to boast, but for fuck’s sake, a dark alleyway?! REALLY? </em> </p><p>The smaller being slunk through, Gabriel followed at a greater distance and as soon as he got halfway, believing he had lost them around the opposite bend, Gabriel was hit in the chest with a bag of several cans of soup. The messenger stumbled backwards, shifting into a defensive position he’d trained for in the war and watched Beelzebub cock their Smith &amp; Wesson and saw as the next chamber rotated into place, their cheaters were nowhere to be seen and allowed their sharp gaze to pierce him unhindered. </p><p>“Don’t you ever tire of following little ol’ me around, love?” </p><p>Gabriel grimaced out his smile, hiding how the blow winded him, “oh, I couldn’t ever. I can go all night long for you, Bella.” </p><p>Instead of some haughty little quirk or a witty retort, the fist that clenched their bag of cans shook and their lips drew tight in frustration, “didn’t azzzk…azzzk-for zzatan’zz zake!” It wasn’t like them to stutter this badly or falter in their usual sparring. It was strange. ““Morttacci tua. Z’not very smart of you to follow me down a dark passageway. What do you-” </p><p>“Who’s handywork is that?” A hand to his own jaw to mirror the purple bruise on their cheek as Gabriel asked darkly.  </p><p>Striking blue eyes refocused, their slouch straightened, their usual scowl slipping a bit in a fight with that quirk Bell would get as they asked, “Why? Planning on defending my honor? I can take care of myself.” </p><p>“Oh, I know you can. Got most of the physical repercussions to prove you’re tough as nails.” He chuckled, feigning that candor he usually could at the end of their barrel. “It’s just not like you to bear markings from anyone else but me.” </p><p>Prince huffed and their eyes fluttered, “despite what you may believe, I do have other adversaries, Gabriel. I’m not a one enemy kind of person.” </p><p>Gabriel did his best wounded act, rubbing at his chest which did soothe the growing bruise Bee had just given him. “Say it ain’t so, your lowness. I thought I was your one and only.” </p><p>“My world doezn’t revolve around you, love.” They crooned, never letting their weapon down.  </p><p>“Eh, I really think I keep you rationed though, sugar.” He leaned forward, sharp smirk on his own face. </p><p>Their glare returned, clearly over their little game, “dolce sciocco.” </p><p>“Solo per te, ronza.” He was enjoying watching them glower; however, Gabriel’s attention went over their head and weapon. “On your six.” </p><p>Beelzebub must have noticed suspicious movement behind his hulking frame too, because their gun had shifted and fired. “Were you exzzpecting guezzts?”  </p><p>They didn’t miss and down their assailant went. </p><p>The man behind the petite devil charged them and Gabriel rushed to disarm him, slamming him into a wall. The two bear-sized men grappled for dominance unable to discern the difference from their scuffle with that of cuban heeled boot stomping in a face a little further behind them. Too concerned with their own melee as the messenger was slammed into the other wall and swiped at, neither expected a bag of cans to land square in the back of their attacker’s head, making him stumble into Gabriel, missing his mark. </p><p>He was adamant though and tried to stab at Gabe again, too shallow with just enough thrust to allow Gabriel to take hold of the man’s arm and break it at the joint. </p><p>A bullet to the unknown’s face had Gabriel jumping, clenching through his teeth, “Dio Santo!” And the man crashed at Angelo’s feet. A quick look and he could roughly identify him as one of Bonnanno’s boys on account of him wearing one of their crew’s signature hat pins. Being their territory, it made sense. He started to say as much but found he was alone in the alleyway with two bodies. </p><p><em>Right...Fuck.</em> </p><p>The man always prepared for a little carnage was left with the remnants and the thought that, if word got out, and he didn’t clean this up quick enough, he was in so much trouble with nonna.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Adonis and Bizarre are both adult magazines from the 40s. I can’t stop laughing at how perfect the two are in a weird relation to our favorite trashfires. Adonis is really all golden boy, naked body builder, square jaw aesthetic and Bizarre is a bdsm mag with this dark haired bombshell and all about the ropes and silks and masks. The mafia was responsible for a lot of the adult material sales, along with a few other illicit materials. </p><p>We Italians don’t just LOVE and have a lot of dishes that can be summed up of several cheeses, we LOVE CHEESE. Al Capone actually brought about labeling from the USDA on cheese and dairy and started what became known as “the ensuing milk wars.” There was also several gangsters through history that used cheese producers and distributers as fronts for selling heroin. </p><p>One of the things I added about the cops taking away children from mafia/mob families actually is a thing, even now. Early to mid-1900s, it also happened at a less noticeable rate. Because they were Italian there was some prejudice and crime related reasons, it's not new things, really. </p><p>I’m enjoying the murder mystery portion of this mafia au, the little notes, the ‘gifts,’ the uncertainty that still links Bee and Gabe. I want to know what you think though.  </p><p>Bee’s hair BEFORE, is sort of like Anna Martin Maxwell’s hair in South Riding, but black. I chose this actress to mention for timeline sake: https://sh.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gene_Tierney<br/>This is who Gabriel mentions in how Bee’s hair is now: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Astor  </p><p>Eve’s Hangout was a prolific LGBT nightclub, in NYC. It mainly served to the lesbian members of the community and Eve was known to say, “men allowed, but not welcomed.”  </p><p>The reason I chose Eve’s was...well, because you can see I’ve gone on a roll with biblical names here. But I also chose an LGBTQA space because the mafia and mob had a foothold in running/protecting business such as this. Being gay was illegal and with the mafia running illegal things it made them operable and a sort of strange “safe” space. I do have one other place that I know fits the timeline that will be on the Mattina’s side of things.</p><p>Adamo Didur was a famous Polish opera singer (Bass) who was employed at the Met in NY from 1908 to ‘32. His voice was deep and sonorous, his sound and articulation was excellent for Italian opera. </p><p>Adamo Didur - Faust: Dio dell'or, del mondo Signor! (Fonotipia) 39485 </p><p>I chose a man who sang in a Faust opera for REASONS!  </p><p>I chose this particular show for Bee’s school days after a bit of debate, There’s a lot of terrible things in it. Abuse. Plans to ruffie someone turning into a (awful) slapstick moment of reverse ruffying (I’m not kidding) that leads to a man dreaming he’s Louis XV of France and his love interest is Madame Du Barry. It’s...a mess. </p><p>Here is the Swedish style fedora I was mentioning Bee wearing: https://image.glamourdaze.com/2017/12/Model-in-hat-with-hill-and-flat-wide-hat-1940.jpg I feel like this would be one that Bee would definitely wear. It’s so fancy. </p><p>Did I say Gabe’s a fashion whore? Or did I mean Bee’s a fashion whore. These are cute though, and I feel these are perfectly swanky face stompers: http://www.vavoomvintage.net/2014/02/8-vintage-style-boots-for-spring-under.html  </p><p>40’s Slang, Italian, &amp; LGBTQA Lexicon </p><p>Bosom buddy = BEST FRANDS! XD But it can be simply best friends too.</p><p>Dynamite = heroin </p><p>Associate = someone who works for the mafia but is not yet a “made man” or taken the oath to the family. </p><p>Racketeering = dishonest and fraudulent business dealings, gambling is included in this. </p><p>Close to the chest = keeping things on the down low. </p><p>Garbage business = euphemism for organized crime. </p><p>A gas = hilarious. </p><p>Snafu = it originated in WWII military slang for a sarcastic phrase of ‘Situation Normal: All Fucked Up’  </p><p>Drip = boring person </p><p>Yuck = stupid person. </p><p>Rap sheet = criminal record. </p><p>No dice = it actually comes from the 20s but was still popular in the 40s. Meaning no luck or progress. </p><p>Cheaters = sunglasses. </p><p>Mortacci tua = this can mean a few things, the way I’ve had Bee say it is “your feeble ancestors.” in exasperation. </p><p>Dolce sciocco = sweet fool. </p><p>Solo per te, ronza = only for you, buzz.  </p><p>“I really think I keep you rationed though, sugar” = I actually fooled around with this one. It’s usually “Hi sugar, are you rationed?” And it’s meant to ask if someone another wants to be sweet on has a significant other/lover/bo/etc, in this case Gabriel’s TELLING Bee that he’s keeping them busy ‘as enemies.’ </p><p>Please leave me comments, I thoroughly enjoy reading what you put. Con-crit very welcome. Songs suggestions make me score them and hoard them like a goblin. And I mean...kudos are great... </p><p>THANK YOU!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Fallen Angel’s Reckoning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The rain cleanses and washes away sins. Blood.  </p><p>Beelzebub remembers what was once, too vividly when it rains as hard as it does, in New York City. </p><p>Gabriel is in for his own rude awakening.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a heavy chapter everyone. LOTS of dark stuff in here. Be prepared. </p><p>Warnings for: Blood, DEATH, insinuated child and family unit death, PTSD, descriptions of wounds, acts of physical violence, and I think that’s it. </p><p>Please dear someone let me know if I miss anything.  </p><p>There is a gender identity thing in the beginning, and I will clear it now that this was from someone who was not aware of who Bee was at the time. It’s not intentional misgendering. </p><p>This chapter is just A LOT! Like the last chapter I posted for WWC (38) this one is also a BIG chapter and I’m NERVOUS and my heart is going a million miles. It’s a big reveal, I feel. </p><p> </p><p>I’ve been WAITING to reveal this chapter but I didn’t want to be too hasty. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! THIS IS A BIG EXPLOSION OF THINGS TO ME!!! </p><p> </p><p>There are tons of notes again that I couldn’t fit in everything. Some bits about Italian immigrants during the 1930s/40s that I brush on but I don’t get to delve, because this isn’t the chapter for that, but there is some sensitive content down there.  </p><p>That and what I BRIEFLY mention and share about the wonderful Savoy. I didn’t share last time and would love to continue that it was what the poet, Langston Hughes, declared was the heartbeat of Harlem and if you see the photos of the place, you would believe it. It was managed by African American civic leader, Charles Buchanan, who was a businessman who took the reins. It was owned by a white entrepreneur, Jay Faggen and a Jewish mobster named Moe Gale. It was THE PLACE TO BE. Loud and lively and known even around the world. (Only a little more in notes below) </p><p>I’m sorry I’ve only rambled harder in this story’s notes, there’s just a lot of history and nuance and I grew up being raised by people growing up in that era, from similar walks of life, so it’s like having a conversation that started with them that’s continued with me. (I get where you’re coming from G-reader. Being raised by these people makes the experience of writing it different.)  </p><p>There is a bit that goes down in the chapter and I REALLY hope you enjoy it. Please let me know, I appreciate your feedback.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was raining… </p><p>Their mother raked her work-worn hands through Bell’s hair as the smaller being sat curled up in the bathtub. She was telling Bee that it was all going to be alright, that their papa should be able to find someone who could help them. That some “women” ran into this type of trouble more often than they let the world know. They were going to take care of it and that everything with Bella’s former amore would be just a bad memory. </p><p>“You have far more amazing things to do than being Vicco Columbo’s little wife.” </p><p>“Suppozzze...maybe…”  </p><p>“Isabella, your buzz, dear. You must control it.” </p><p>They bit their lip and quietly annunciated, “yes, mama.”  </p><p>They thought of Didur and the Met. The opportunities their fortuitous passion would unfold for them and their family. About how badly they wanted – needed – to perform on stage after all the hard work they did to get there, despite all obstacles both physical, financial, and social. Their debut was supposed to happen, and they were quiet about their desperation to cling to their saving grace.  </p><p>Everything felt like it hung in the balance. For them. Even their family, as a whole, was affected by Isabella Prince’s recent ‘fall from grace’ and their father had lost his position within the Columbo family over it.  </p><p>Beelzebub felt like they were on the edge of a cliff. </p><p>It had felt surreal. Like a dream they had been falling into was swiped away like a curtain. </p><p>They had just been out with their friends to celebrate at the Savoy. Vic had actually arrived after being away for what had felt like too long and yet not long enough, thinking he had met with them for the festivities at their invitation... </p><p>Bella had been anxious to see him again after their previous rendezvous out. Almost a whole month prior… </p><p>But instead of reveling Bee had been confronted; confused and upset with Vicco’s strange declarations and painful words. It left no room for speculation that things were over between the two…  </p><p>They tried to focus on their only goal left that was almost in reach but felt like they were drowning because of everything falling apart around them.  </p><p>Things weren’t adding up, externally and then internally, not too long after their altercation. Revealing a cruel remnant...Being terrified at others finding out, heartbroken that Vic had called them all those horrid things and feeling the blow of his words burn a second time. It left Bella feeling not unlike ‘donna caduta,’ instead of the being filled with nervous excitement that was supposed to be nourished in their heart before things went belly-up. </p><p>A ball was dropped in their bath with a loud echoey plunk that cancelled out the noise of the rain pelting the windows and their chaotic thoughts. Bell could do no more than stare at the red color in the water until the ball came into focus after the ripples dissipated. Their little brother came to retrieve it, but the only thing Bee could do was go through the motions of handing it back, finding his familiar cherubic face puffy from tire and his thin, soft hands lively. Vibrant. Real. He was only two and his nightshirt was past his knees. It was one of Bell’s old nightshirts.  </p><p>Seeing how tiny he had been made their heart clench and foggy memories of conflicting thoughts wisp through Bee’s head of how a child could be so small and essentially helpless. Helpless and unknowing. </p><p>A sinking feeling of guilt in their gut and feeling so damned lost filled Isabella Prince. </p><p>Their mother swept the child out, declaring, “leave your sister alone, she’s not feeling well. Come on, off with you, cucciolo.” And they were alone again. The scalding water suddenly felt too cold too quickly and they heard a strange thump, like an echo of a drop they felt in their whole being. Like their senses were too aware and yet unable to register it. </p><p>They were looking over that damned fly pendant. Looked at the bastard’s face and their pout locked much like the locket clicking into place. Vic had only come to break things off with them, said too loudly that Belle was a stain…troia...degenerare... </p><p>His words echoed back as they flicked the wings open. </p><p>A wet hand struggled to remove the frame, picking at it with nails they’d kept short for work and practice. In time with the tink tink tink of their nails clicking on the metal and glass fell the sounds of footsteps in the background, strange against the tiles.  </p><p>Bee almost had it out but got frustrated and lost conviction, clutching it closed and close to their chest, covering their eyes from betraying them. They wouldn’t permit more than a sniffle, telling themselves that Vic wasn’t worth their tears and they had far bigger issues to worry about. Cry for those. Because they kept thinking how their whole life could be altered for the much worse because of their foolish mistake. Feeling their own damnation could very well be on the horizon... </p><p>A shaky, ghost-like hand was back in their hair, combing through. It not only felt wrong but smelled wrong too. Like rainwater with a hint of something sulfurous. Just barely there.  </p><p>“Mama?” </p><p>But the hand wretched their head back and hit the lip of the tub hard, making them shout in pain before slipping under the sloshing water. A second rough hand covered their mouth. Bell thrashed and struck as hard as they could! In the back of their mind Bee could hear the delicate ping of the fly brooch on tile. A Shadow was all they could see of a man-shaped form eclipsed by the light above his head. He stood over the diminutive being. They reached to claw at him, but their hands were wet and nails dull. They bit and SCREAMED and tried to find purchase of the tub to push their body up and over but were roughly shoved below the water’s surface again by a hand that crashed into their vulnerable chest.  </p><p>Bee saw red in the water...  </p><p>The first slice of pain... </p><p>Their lungs burned... </p><p>And those hands... </p><p>Then they were up, twitching and cringing and struggling for air in a corner of the little hideaway atop the haberdashers.  </p><p>It was raining... </p><p>Beelzebub was curled up in the corner on the floor, wrapped in the wool blankets in the darkness. They had sweat through their clothes despite how cold it was, and they shivered from it as much as the angering nightmare. Beelz always had dreams like that when it rained, avoiding it by working through nights of downpour. But they needed the rest with their injuries, so it was unavoidable. Doubly so after the latest little gift from their forever-after stalker with his stupid red card.  </p><p>They curled up tight, feeling around in their nearby bag for the brooch to look within. </p><p>Vic stared back, face untouched by time. The photo paper had aged though and there was a little water damage, but it hadn’t marred Vic’s features. His stupid smoldering gaze that used to make Bee’s heart race made them angry and a little sad too. The pain was old and faded but the regret still made it hurt. </p><p>Without hesitation they got up, took the discarded bin from the room’s corner and went through the process of starting a small rubbish fire. It gave Prince warmth and with ease they didn’t have the night they had attempted to remove that small vestige of Vicco with wet stubby nails, they removed the frame and glass to finally pluck out the photo. Without even a last look they dropped his picture in the flames and let it lick away the hurt and memories that had once held sweetness attached to it. </p><p>For a second, Bell debated dropping in the brooch after it.  </p><p>It wasn’t like it mattered to keep it either. It wasn’t relevant anymore.  </p><p>Their parents had paid a very pretty penny to have it made to commemorate their good fortune of an ‘excellent’ marriage – a lofty one for a little no one with a father who was only a poor initiate to have his ‘daughter’ marry a Don’s grandson – and for their promising operatic career. It definitely had cost far more than their family’s apartment, one like many of the tenements in New York City. It startled and had made such a weight settle in Bee’s stomach knowing that their parents’ sweat and tears and love and hope had been worked into it, after everything else done for their eldest, and Bee had promised themself they would pay them back by taking care of them.  </p><p>However, that was never meant to happen. They let go of everything else, this was just one more thing that Beelz could discard to say to the fucker manipulating them that, ‘what you do doesn’t matter to me.’ </p><p>But when they went to dump it, Bee noticed there was a photo hidden beneath the one just discarded. One Beelzebub knew had not been there when they had opened the velvet jewelry box on their legally certified eighteenth birthday when their parents told them that the Don accepted the two intendeds’ marriage proposal. It had been left blank for Bee to choose what photo to shield within, and they most definitely had never added this one.  </p><p>They stared at the picture the Shadow had left. The only thing telling on Bell was the alarm sparking in their cold blue eyes. </p><p>**************************************** </p><p>“Who is it?” </p><p>“It’s me, Gabe, let me in!” </p><p>As quick as he could Gabriel unlocked his apartment door to admit a breathless Uriel. “Dio, chi auiti! Gabriel, you better come. Now.” </p><p>“What’s happened?” He asked, shrugging into suspenders. It made his impeccably tailored shirt taut around his broad shoulders as Gabe moved, easier to swing the vest round and slip into, readjusting his lavender tie to sit better beneath it before buttoning.  </p><p>It was a dark day but still so wicked early that Gabriel had only just stepped out of the shower and near finished getting dressed. With his sibling’s urgency the messenger was swinging his holster round, followed by his jacket. </p><p>“He’s...he’s struck, Gabe.” They intoned solemnly, “That fiend!” </p><p>“Who?” </p><p>“You know who, the—the Shadow…fantasma!” They hissed as though they didn’t want to give life to the name or say it as though it held such importance. </p><p>“Where? Any survivors?” </p><p>“Knickerbocker Village. It was a massacre, just like the rest.” </p><p>“Was it one of ours?” He PRAYED not. </p><p>“No. A Prince.” </p><p>At that the messenger halted, eyes wide. Gabriel’s mouth was suddenly dry. Guilt surged in Gabriel’s gut, knowing enough of what brutality Bee’d already suffered at this Shadow’s hands and cursed his previous hateful wish he made over Gracie’s grave. That and he had not warned Bell of the Shadow’s ill-tidings of death. </p><p>“Beelzebub?” </p><p>“What? No. Some Prince.”  </p><p><em>Oh, thank you, merciful Lord. Forgive my cruel thoughts, once more.</em> </p><p>He tried to go through the ‘Princes’ over on Lucifer’s side to figure out who had family; young women-looking beings, either starting families or about to be married, but only their Uncle Mammon had a grandkid who could possibly fit the bill. The rest weren’t in any committed relationship that didn’t run off of lust. Angelo looked at his sibling and shook his head, hands wide.  </p><p>“One of the Gambino’s crew. Family was an affiliate. Were gonna marry into their group via Johnny Gambino, one of the second cousins.” </p><p>Door locked, Gabe swinging on his trench coat, and they were in the stairways bounding down, not too quietly, “Fuck. Johnny-boy? Have they found’im yet?” </p><p>Uriel shook their head and kept pace, their long legs allowing it with ease, “Not yet. Michael heard he never got home last night, according to reports.” </p><p>They rushed to the street to jump in the car, Amos already at the wheel with the destination called to him as soon as Uriel slammed the door. Amos revved through the rainy streets of Manhattan into the Bronx and dropped them off on the corner of Catherine and Monroe. It was just close enough to not be noticed in the gathering crowd of onlookers, meeting up with Samyaza, a.k.a. Sammy Yowza, one of their watcher’s who tended to deliver the most shocking news behind the force. Hence the moniker. The dark-haired man was one of their undercovers, giving intel on the cops and what other families were up to, playing a good detective, planted in his position for cases like this. The guy was a spitting image of his older brother Raguel. </p><p>“Whoa there! Hold yer horses, Gabe. Ya might want to take a minute.” </p><p>“Your crew’s still here?” </p><p>“The boys almost cleared out.” </p><p>“How long?” </p><p>“Won’t know til coroner's done his tests.” </p><p>Just as Sammy said this, a stretcher was being brought out of the nearby tenement building. The uniforms weren’t being careful enough and someone slipped on the stone steps, dropping one poll and spilling the poor soul out onto the pavement.  </p><p>What Gabriel wasn’t expecting was seeing the spitting visage of Beelzebub fall to the cold, dirty street, eyes closed to him, making a dead weight drop in his stomach. Without thinking, he started for the scene, pushing past all to retrieve the slim, naked figure. Gabriel shoved aside the clumsy medic and carefully wrapped up the being that he could have sworn was his petite adversary in the bloody blanket. They felt so cold, and the open wounds were in the exact pattern that had been carved into the one person he believed had been left to taunt him till the end of days. It felt too violently precise. </p><p>Down to the latest discovered one that he’d witnessed as he tugged them along in the theatre, beneath their collar. Those angry gashes jammed into the space between collarbones. It looked awful in the gloomy light of the rainy morning.  </p><p>Gabriel wasn’t aware that he was running shaky hands over their wounds, tracing the lines on their face. The one that split their face into two plains wasn’t very deep, but blood from a head wound is always more than a person assumes. The one that bisected porcelain pale skin felt devastating below his fingers. And the one down their throat, that he had watched Lucifer skirt over, was far worse. Further down from their neck, down over their collarbones then between their small breasts was a jagged Y incision, traveling further down, that a coroner would use for an autopsy. But those weren’t made by the coroner, nor were they deep enough to kill… </p><p>Gabriel knew too well why…  </p><p>All the watery blood made it difficult to tell if they had been alive before being cut into, but Gabriel had that knowledge from the cases he looked over and from his own wife’s autopsy report.  </p><p>All of the Shadow’s main victims were tortured before being drowned... </p><p>Angelo was dizzy, he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air and that his head felt floaty, it only sort of registered. He was too focused on the disturbing desecration in his arms. They were too cold; that’s what processed. He shrugged out of his trench and wrapped it around the slim figure, before being pushed away and told to step back from the victim. </p><p>Looking up, ready to snarl at the man who tried to touch him, Angelo saw another slender ghost flit into the building from out of the rain. Someone who looked as though they were stuck in a macabre purgatory of their own. It only served to make Gabriel look from the body, replaced in the stretcher to the vanished being he thought he saw stalk inside.  </p><p>Then the leader of the Angelo family was pulled back by his sibling into the nearby alleyway.  </p><p>“Gabriel!” </p><p>“Fuck.” </p><p>“You okay?” </p><p>“I tried to warn you that it was messy.” Sammy interjected. </p><p>“You’re sure that wasn’t Bell?” </p><p>“What?!” </p><p>“What’s the matter with you?” Sammy asked confused. </p><p>“Did you LOOK at them?” </p><p>“Gabriel, calm down.” </p><p>“They look like they could be god damned twins. Fuck.” He carded his hand through his hair, large fingers crushing his hats brim. “Fuck!” </p><p>“You going to be okay?” Uriel asked, cautiously. They hadn’t thought that it could be too much for him, the murders since Gracie’s own hadn’t been this traumatizing for him to see. Gabe’d gone to each crime scene to try and piece together what he could, going so far to the morgue and even out to see the victims linked; those who were snuffed out as he should have been, while out doing dirty work for their bosses. “Tell me.” </p><p>“I’m okay. Just...they LOOKED just like Beelzebub.” </p><p>Information was sloshing around in his head, trying to remember what he’d dug up on the little demon. Previous entanglements, their family home, known living family which he hadn’t thought they had, gender, age. He thought how the god damned dead looked to even be about the same age as the little fiend that had often ensnared Gabriel’s thoughts whenever he received a new red card, only serving to freak him out further. </p><p>“You told me it was ‘A Prince.’” </p><p>“They are. She was.” </p><p>“Who was that, then?” </p><p>Sammy tapped his hat on his knee, “Isabella Vera Prince. Italian-English immigrant. Approximately twenty-seven to thirty years old.” </p><p>Gabriel made another face, wholey uncomfortable with the situation, coughing. </p><p>
  <em>What was their middle name again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.</em>
</p><p>“Gabe...” </p><p>“Go do what you gotta do, Sammy. Tell me when I can go up. If you need to keep things on the down-low, you can get Raguel to send the evidence to me.” He said, straightening up, adjusting his hat then realizing he’d lost his coat. He tried not to think of how it was so big in comparison. Gabriel looked down to find his clothes stained red and damp from rain. His strong jaw locked, thinking of how he’d just held this person who looked too much like a torn-up Beelzebub Prince in his arms moments ago.  </p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>“Sure thing, boss.” He saw Raguel’s little brother tap Uriel with his hat, in passing. “Maybe get him something to take the edge off.” </p><p>“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” </p><p>“I’ll go clear things up for you, then. Just hold tight.” </p><p>His companions looked him over for a moment, skeptically. They’d never seen him like this, not once, and it shook and confused them. Samyaza tapped out and went back to his unit, falling back into his duties to the scene of the crime to wrap things up.  </p><p>“Hey, I can get you some-” </p><p>“No thanks, Uriel, but no. Gotta keep a clear head.” He patted their shoulders and realized there was blood on his hands. So much blood. His face scrunched up and throat constricted. Gabriel needed his notes on the coroner’s reports for all the murder victims and the photos. </p><p>“Hey, can you do me a solid and contact Michael? I think we need to have a little get-together with her and Sandy over this.”  </p><p>“Gonna finally let us in, big guy?” They asked, a worried smile crossed their often soft pout. They usually were so calm and collected but when Uri allowed, there was a shy tenderness about them, he always loved that about Uriel. Also, the fact that they were only two inches shorter and still called him big guy, even when they grew up. It was endearing to him. </p><p>“Yeah. Think it’s time, Uri.” He smiled back at them, wishing he could hug them, but Gabe was definitely covered in blood.  </p><p>“I’ll be back with a new jacket and shirt for you.” </p><p>With that, he watched Uriel go and felt so completely ragged and leaned against the bricks. Gabe never thought it would be a lot to take in, seeing the desecrated face of someone he’d wanted dead for nearly the decade he’d known them.  </p><p>Thinking back to the first time Gabriel remembered meeting Beelzebub, before they’d taken up the name, he remembered how they were like a dark storm on his horizon. How Bell’s scars, though faded and healed, still looked angry and red. The room had gotten quiet on recognizing who they were as Beelz stood tall amongst Lucifer’s crew and were questioned directly.  </p><p>Gabriel was certain he wasn’t the only one pulled by their aura. He knew he would hate them til Bell’s last breath. Not because they were standing in a world they didn’t belong, as a woman-like being and many had spat that Bell was metic**a, but because they were Luci’s and supposed to be dead. However, Beelzebub’s haunting blues eyes were fiery and like gems and solidified that this being was unnatural in every aspect. Dangerous.  </p><p>He wondered if this Isabella Prince had also existed somewhat like Bell had.  </p><p>A noise from the back end of the alleyway startled the messenger. No one there but the bumbling of more coppers sweeping the scene for more clues. Uncertainty wormed in his chest and Gabe followed the strange pull he felt then. As though he weren’t a striking Adonis and known crime boss, Gabriel weaved between the leaving officers, unnoticed. Up the back steps, and to the sixth floor, finding the one apartment door that had been roped off in red and passing beyond it. The floor was eerily quiet. </p><p>In the short vestibule a marker lay by a lone heel, blood seeping into the old wood floor. Past the kitchen was another two markers. No blood to be seen but piss staining the couch and wood below, toys at the table. Gabriel kept his features schooled but felt sick over the discovery. He cursed the Shadow bastard and averted his eyes from that side of the apartment. </p><p>Continuing on, he saw red pools of water that had spilled under the bathroom door, planning to make that his destination until he was stopped by a face that was all too familiar, set in a frame on the wall. One he questioned if he knew perhaps too well or not at all. </p><p>A smiling cherubic face, not a scar to be seen, and crystal blue eyes that Gabriel would have sworn up until this moment that he’d recognize anywhere.  </p><p>This was the glowing woman that was now dead on the way to the morgue, her family in toe. The portrait had a stern looking man in a lone chair, a mother figure with a toddler in her lap and little boy, all together. The children looked happy and even the grumpy looking man with a beard had a twinkle to his blue eyes. But the woman that looked like Bell... </p><p>If someone told him that was Beelzebub, he’d have believed them.  </p><p>“The fuck you doin’ here, messenger?” From out of the darkness of the room over stormed a dead damned Prince, or one who should have been. In the pit of Gabriel’s stomach, he felt relief so strong he felt foolish, but he ignored it.  </p><p>“Could ask you the same thing, Bee. Shouldn’t you be on the way to the morgue? I’d be honored to be your head pallbearer.” </p><p>The blank expression hid all and made Gabe stall. It wasn't just from curiosity, there was a fury he could feel in the air and yet Beelzebub remained steel. Not even a retort for his terrible joke. Cold calculating eyes held him captive, and he didn’t know what Bee was thinking. </p><p>“What’zz it fucking look like?” </p><p>“...Like I’m seeing a ghost...” </p><p>Steely blue eyes left his for a second then flicked back, hiding everything but a rumbling of anger away. “Suppozzze you could say that.” </p><p>They stood stiff in the doorway, not moving a muscle. It was then Gabriel got a look at their appearance. A three-piece suit, dark grey with lighter grey pinstripes, the jacket hung open, exposing their matching vest that hugged their petite frame, hair flat and damp like the rest of them, and no makeup. Pale as death. Bee’s pants were fitted at their hips – as he had realized they were curvy in some parts that most who wore suit pants were not – but hung loose at the leg, as was in fashion. Their grey pussybow matched the pinstripe but the collar did not hide the bruising at their delicate throat. </p><p>The bruise there and at their cheek looked harsher in the apartment light. </p><p>Beelzebub’s scars... </p><p>Looking at Bell and the photo of their doppelgänger side by each disturbed the messenger. The other Bella appeared this demure and sweet looking woman in her late twenties, a happy smile that would never anymore fit the Bella Gabriel knew, on her lips. Isabella wore a charming solid colored dress with bows by her shoulders and pockets and short, modified bell sleeves that looked more the style from the 30s, rather than the more updated looks. It was soft versus sharp. </p><p>“Why does she-” </p><p>“Not your buzzzinezzz.” </p><p>“I didn’t know you had any family left.” </p><p>“Don’t now.” </p><p>A slip of information. Now Gabriel knew that the two had a solid sort of connection. Whether Beelz realized it, Gabe couldn’t tell. </p><p>“...Shared your last name. Lived in New York.” </p><p>“Many Prince’s in the world.” They folded their arms over their chest and raised their chin, imperiously. Their newest shiner on their jaw was as angry and purple looking as the ones that Gabriel knew could fit his hands like a glove.  </p><p>“This Prince looked-” </p><p>“You didn’t answer my question. Why. Are. You. Here?”  </p><p>“We both know why WE’RE here...” He eyed the bathroom door. “You okay?” </p><p>They laughed. It sounded like a bark, it was too loud and bitter and showed off their sharp teeth. However, Gabriel was more shaken from this recent scene and could only imagine what Beelzebub must be feeling. </p><p>“Come on, Bell. I think this is where we tr-” </p><p>“What? Where we throw aside our differences and make nizzze over our shared tragedy?” Their eyes were boring into him, fiery blue topaz in the low light. “Fuck’in Heavenzz, Gabriel, you are daft.” </p><p>“Fine! You want to be that way, fuck you!” </p><p>
  <em>And fuck me for being even minutely worried. Stupid!</em>
</p><p>He stepped on something as he turned and saw below his foot a locket. Gold and etched with a fly in the center of its crenelated cover, its body was done up in a line of three tiny pearls, an opal, and two tiny red garnets for eyes. It was a beautiful older piece that didn’t seem fitting for a family that lived in such squaller; Gabriel assumed it was stolen or dropped by the killer.   </p><p>With a sigh he picked it out of the puddle of bloody water and flipped it open to find what looked to be two barely teens, dressed exactly the same and looking as though they could indeed be twins. It was a simple photo from a studio, looking like neither knew their fate and holding each other close. One of the pair looked somehow more commanding of the photo than their counterpart, their stoic face calculating, while the other smiled happily and freely. Together the two looked sort of like a variant depiction of Melpomene and Thalia, the theatre masks.  </p><p>The red and water stained the photo, giving them an eerier quality. Beelzebub snatched it out of Gabriel’s hands and slipped it away into a pocket. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Get out.” </p><p>“I’ll be looking over the evidence from this, but I’ll have it passed along to you through our channels, when I'm done.” He said as he started to trudge out but felt something pelt the back of his head. </p><p>“You’ll leave this alone, if you know what’s good for you, mezzenger.” </p><p>Before he could register what he was doing, he found himself pressing Beelzebub hard against the doorframe, his grip unshakable and bruising around their thin arms. It must have hurt but they gave no measurable indicators, just a fierce glare, jaw squared.  </p><p>“And you need to shut the fuck up and get over yourself, Dollface.” He snarled in their face, “has it even processed what’s going on here? What this means?” </p><p>“The same thing it hazz every time before, Gabriel. He’s got what he wantzz.” </p><p>“And he’s going to disappear again.” He shook them. “Don’t tell me, you don’t care about this one.” </p><p>“He’s already in the wind.” They growled low, not moving a muscle, defiant. “Now, take your handzz off me before I rip them off.” </p><p>Gabriel bent low, meaning to intimidate and belittle, almost nose to nose with the demon who haunted him with their very existence. He could smell the sweetness of Bee’s breath again. “We can’t keep outrunning him. He’ll just keep coming back. And one day, he’ll come back for what he’s missed.” </p><p>Bell’s snarl turned into more of an angry smirk, “whatever makez you think I care to outrun him?” </p><p>A scan over the diminutive being and Gabriel’s eyes grew too wide, “you’re crazy.” </p><p>“You’ve alwayzz known.” They crooned angrily up into his face, pressing closer, letting his fingers dig harder into them.  </p><p>“Gabe?” Came a startled voice from the entrance of the apartment.  </p><p>Uriel and Sammy were there, staring down the petite demon in Gabriel’s grip. When they saw the others reach for a weapon, Beelzebub struck Gabriel with a knee, then left hook, pushed him back and pulled him by his necktie that matched his eyes to catapult him into the doorframe. They pushed him then slammed the door into him before launching for the window.  </p><p>They were too fast. </p><p>By the time he recovered and followed Gabe watched Bell spring like a cat to a fire escape on the wall over. A terrifying long jump. A slight, clanging falter to their landing and Gabriel watched them wince, crooked teeth grit in pain, glaring back at him before running off.  </p><p>
  <em>Damn...</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Shadow finally struck! </p><p>I hope this chapter was scintillating and intriguing. </p><p>The Savoy had a dance floor a block long, it had a corner for the professional Lindy Hoppers while the regular dancers and Harlemites could take the rest. It was not only the first racially integrated ballroom but the FIRST PUBLIC SPACE in the country! It opened in 1926 during the Harlem Renaissance and started off integrated. I highly suggest learning more: http://www.vintageinn.ca/tag/facts-about-the-savoy-ballroom/ </p><p>Imagine a personal argument happening here though. </p><p>The bug pin would have been a commissioned piece and very expensive. Here is one that inspired me from the same time:  </p><p>https://www.ebay.com/itm/Vintage-Pegasus-Coro-Jelly-Belly-Figural-Insect-Fly-Pin-Brooch/333883592638?hash=item4dbd034fbe:g:T9AAAOSw691gG0zE </p><p>Vicco was important in his family and wouldn’t have been able to marry just anyone and Bee’s father wouldn’t have had anything to offer. Yes, I am saying that the marriage was a strategic move for Bee’s father’s career. Yes, I am insinuating that Bee was underage when their relationship with Vic started (I’m not kidding. This is gross.) and that their husband-to-be was older than an 18-year-old, Vic roughly 24-25 by Bee’s mentioned birthday (this grossly wasn’t unheard of at the time). </p><p>There is more going on to WHY Vic dumped Bee, and I hope you can glean snippets from their dream. Let me know what YOU think. </p><p>I mention that Bee used to be called a half-breed by some, I am definitely keeping Bee with a British accent. Their father is British while their mother is Italian. There will be more, some of it involving emigrating to the states from Europe prior to their high school years, which would mean BEFORE WWII. If you’ve read your history about Italian-Americans and the war you’ll have a bit of an idea about how their family would be treated and handled. For Bee to have the opportunity to sing at the Met would have been a HUGE deal for them and their family. Then their engagement to Vic, who was SOMEONE would be doubly so. It would have been an extremely difficult engagement to attain and wouldn’t have been viable without the head of family’s approval. </p><p>The tenement I went with was the old Knickerbocker: https://www.archives.nyc/blog/2019/5/16/the-early-tenements-of-new-yorkdark-dank-and-dangerous  </p><p>One of the things I dug around for was how family portraits were done, particularly of families without a lot of money. Both Prince’s lived in a tenement building prior to their attacks in this story. It was common of a lot of immigrants living in the city, but portraits were not as uncommon for even someone of their background. By the 1920s it was getting more affordable, particularly in cities and big towns. Personal cameras were also fairly common (I have a Kodak Brownie Target and a Kodak Vigilant Junior from the timeframe and found out their prices at $3.50 and $38.00, respectively) but not very common for someone of either familys’ class to necessarily own, so going to a studio was more affordable for them. </p><p>I keep mentioning pussybows, and I think the style is nice and mimics Bee’s cravat a bit in GO and is why I chose them. The one on the left: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/404901822739229836/ </p><p>I also think that Bee would wear vests traditionally masculine but some like this one: https://pin.it/4pC2KNV  </p><p>Isabella’s dress I referenced in the family portrait too: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/248472104415257983/?d=t&amp;mt=login  </p><p>The locket I’m referencing is a cross between Bee’s sigil with the crenelated edge (I had found one similar in vintage lockets) https://gem.app/product/vintage-locket-buttercup-shaped-locket-c  and THIS one that has this beautiful bug on it. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/315814992628083381/ </p><p>Lockets from that time used to have a frame within that doesn’t get produced anymore. </p><p>1940’s Slang, Italian, &amp; LGBTQA Lexicon  </p><p>Amore = love </p><p>Donna caduta = fallen woman </p><p>Belly-up = failed, went out of business, ended </p><p>Cucciolo = puppy/pup/cub. It’s a term of endearment for children that parents use </p><p>Troia = whore </p><p>Degenerare = means degenerate but it has a few other meanings </p><p>Don = Mafia boss/head of family </p><p>Dio, chi auiti = God, help us </p><p>Metic**a = this is a really derogatory racially charged term in Italian. It means half-breed, hybrid, mutt/mongrel and is something that does get used on someone who is mixed, usually on someone who is Black and white. If I catch someone using this term on anyone you should also expect your ass to meet the pavement in half-time it takes to say it. Don’t fucking say it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lone Prince</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Shadow’s struck and left Beelzebub alone in the world with no one left. Gabriel sets off a bit of anger and confusion but he’s left to the wayside in this game, the day of.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings does include memories of living in f4scist Italy (as this story does include facts around and about WWII and Italy was one of the Axis powers). Talks about being children of mixed heritage and the threats they faced during such a time. Notes on things that happen to a body in death. Threats of violence. PTSD symptoms. Blood. Murder scene that involves dead children and women. Molestation and vague vague reference of sexual assault.</p><p>This chapter is pretty solely Beelzebub. It’s more emotional and may feel a little disjointed over flashbacks. </p><p>The other thing to address is that there are points where Bee is referred to as Isabella and Bella when mentions of their childhood. When Isabella Vera is brought into more focus Bee becomes more Bella/Bee/Bellz/Beelz/Beelzebub and Isabella goes with her Isabel/Isabella. I tried to keep it very simple despite the name thing and explain why the two are named as they are. If you’re getting a headache thinking about it, imagine being named in a family like this. It is exhausting.  </p><p>Also to aid when full names are given Beelzebub’s birth name is Isabella Verona Prince and their cousin’s name is Isabella Vera Prince. If you think this doesn’t happen often, please understand some families do this knowingly, particularly with men and their offspring. My father’s father and my father and older brother don’t have middle names and the only difference is the first, second, and third bs. </p><p>Please let me know what you think of this chapter, thank you!</p><p>Editing to add that I was haunted by a song when writing this chapter. It was kind of just in the back of my mind and I wasn't going to share it but I decided very last minute I have to, because their names and the lyrics and how I wanted them to seem close really hit well. Particularly the lyrics "At your side, I feel like a ghost" and that really cemented it. It's Evelyn Evelyn (lol that I gifted this piece to King Evelyn) from the album of the same name, with Amanda freaken Palmer and Jason Webley. Give it a listen.</p><p>Be safe!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beelzebub was livid.  </p><p>Everything in their small body quivered in a rage they hadn’t felt in years. And pain. Their cold heart hurt in ways Beelzebub forgot it could. In a corner of some dirty alley, being soaked through by freezing rain, they dug their long nails in their hair and scrapped down, ending with covering their eyes and hissed through the tears that could not be commanded not to spill.   </p><p>Bell felt a fool; realizing they had been blinded by their own obsession of potentially catching a glimpse of the fucker from seeing the clue left that was more important.  </p><p>Because of their failure to recognize their boogeyman’s duality and tricks, Bee’s precious cousin – what remained of their family – had suffered the consequences. All because Beelz hadn’t thought to look deeper within. All because of smoke and mirrors that distracted.  </p><p>To top it all off, that bastard Angelo was there in their business and it forced the demon to flee in a not so graceful way. </p><p>Which was enough to piss them off to set off, to get the fuck out of there and storm the streets as they thought shit over. Get far away from Knickerbocker Village and Gabriel Angelo. Beelzebub should have known he’d have turned up. Gabriel always seemed to stick his nose in Shadow business; remembering a few instances where he’d be leaving a crime scene, overhearing him talking with his police connections, or even seeing him at the morgue. That already drove Bee up a wall, but this last scene Beelzebub watched play out was infuriating.  </p><p>
  <em>He has no fucking right!</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>And for that shithead to turn up at their family’s place, make it sound like HE cared what the fuck was going on, see Gabe’s bizarre display on the piss-stained streets of the village and holding Beelzebub’s cousin close as though...Bee had no fucking clue what to make of that. Just that it pissed them off to no end! </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Then the fuck face said he was “sorry.”  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fucker’s SORRY?! He says he’s sorry? For fucking what?! God damnit, Gabriel! Cazzo di merda!</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Bee clenched out a growl as they pushed their hands against their re-popped stitches. They were itching for a fight and wanted to tossle pretty boy into a fucking wall. Decimate him. Angelo was too in their face, in their business. Then the cazzo had the audacity to point out the foibles of having stupid family still around, and one with someone too similar. Same last name, same damned first name, and their very image. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A perfect target. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Even though it wasn’t like Beelzebub hadn’t tried to push Isabella away... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Walking the cold rainy streets, fighting the pain in their gut, did nothing to stop the last remaining Prince from thinking back... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Isabella Verona Prince and Isabella Vera Prince. Named the same, not because they looked the same at birth, or even how their births were so close together, but because of some twist of fate and picking a common family name in secret, making it a funny family joke when revealed. The story was so stupid to Beelzebub on how their families both laughed as they introduced the squishy potatoes that were called babies, revealing the names being off only slightly. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It helped nothing that the two grew up to look so much alike physically. Almost like twins. And yet to the half who had once simply been Bella Verona, their sweet cousin was so loved and much like a sister. There was maybe no one else in the world that Bella loved more than her, giving every secret and keeping Isabella’s in return. Isabella was the only one who knew who Bella really was. Not even their parents knew of Bee’s secret, nor of their secret love of pretty girls with long hair and soft hands, and not just boys with smiley, kind eyes and strong noses. Nor of Bee’s love of both flowy skirts or bow ties and pants. Isabella never uttered a word to another soul. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The two grew up inseparable. The two families already tightknit, doted on that fact. They lived not far from each other, in little apartments in Turin, on Italy’s industrial side. Watching the world unfold as the children grew. Scared... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>When the fascist party in Italy was rolling through another phase, having hit hard on autonomy of the people and moving on to Mussolini pushing antisemitic statements, things started to become noticeably fraught within their own family. But they kept their heads down as best they could and used whatever they could manage to do so, even Bella and Isabella’s looks. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>To the common Italian eye, they looked mostly like what the ‘ideal’ Italian appeared; with their pale blue eyes and moon-pale skin, their black hair being what made them symbolically so, as most of Europe didn’t have the gene to have black hair. It was intriguing that the two looked so much alike but weren’t questioned much about their Italian heritage. Beelzebub often assumed that their father and uncle were mixed, judging by the look of their grandparents.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>But having it known that their fathers weren’t Italian...was dangerous... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>If their fathers weren’t pointed out as British and that they weren’t actually sisters, they’d have appeared as poster children for the Portito Nazionale Fascista. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>As a matter of fact, Bell remembered how a few men had cornered Aunt Ornella to ask questions of her about the two. The men didn’t wear uniforms but the names they supplied – in an overly friendly manner – struck a chord with the close-knit families.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>With how everything was in Italy, whoever was watching the children would supply that they were twins. That the two were indeed Italian, and no mention of much else but seemingly harmless things. How they were well-behaved and did well in school, the two’s strength in the field of music. The music pleased the men on learning, mentioning that “little girls should be like musical souls for their people, to spring them into action.” Twins being a great symbol to Italy, would bring strength and fortune to their people was voiced, the men ‘blessing’ Aunt Ornella and then the twins.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Promises were made by these men to meet them again and Bell’s little heart froze. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Because of their encounter, Bee’s papa, Maurice, pushed as he had on occasion to utilize the children’s looks to ingratiate themselves with the party, create aliases for them and a false family for war efforts to spy. Have Aunt Ornella play as their mother, pretend at single motherhood of a lady who was widowed by a good, loyal soldier who’d died for his country. Their papa insisted they would use the fact that each were a no one and that Bee’s nonni materni had never seen the child to identify them, having disowned Bella’s mother when she had committed to marrying a man who was not Italian with barely a name for himself, that it would work.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The two were young still and wouldn’t be seen as a threat to divulging information. And icons got invited to all the major functions, public appearances, and parties... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Not only that but Bee’s papa knew just how smart Bella and Isabella were, how they took in everything, and how Isabella complemented Bell’s smooth mannerisms with sweetness.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>He knew how they paid attention closely and knew how to keep a secret.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Maurice had confidence in the children, particularly his own. He knew Bell was skilled at physically hiding alarmingly well. As a child they had a penchant for climbing things, tucking important things away and could secret notes stolen. Isabella was excellent at distracting even adults as Bella did so. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>However, Bell’s Uncle Frankie, refused. He didn’t want to endanger his family knowing what would happen if the children and Ornella were discovered. The children, if found to be metic**a would be either killed off or used in obscene ways, Ornella too. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Bell had sworn to their uncle that they and Isabella could do it. That they wanted to help, but the kid was dismissed. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>That last dinner led to physical blows and threats between the men and the two families separated. It would be the second to last time the children would see the other as their mothers snuck out to get the two to pose for a special portrait, dressing them like twins in new cute little sack-like dresses. Isabella ignoring the goodbye and Bella too aware that the two may never see each other again.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>That was the very picture that had been in Isabella’s locket. The one that Bella had had absconded away in their own by their boogeyman. It made Prince feel SO STUPID! They cursed themself and the Shadow bastard in the same breath. Then Isabella. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why the FUCK didn’t you listen to me, Isabel?! FUCK! Why?!</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Bell had never expected to run into Isabella, losing complete contact with her after Bee’s attack, having kept only stagnated letters over the years before anything involving a watery death and massacre of family. It was a shock to bump into her while casing a new art installation, a little over a year and a half prior to the day Isabella would follow too closely in Bella’s footsteps. Heard their little pet name in the falling day of “mia bella moscha!” Making Beelzebub startle and spin round to be slammed into by the woman who looked so much like Bee and yet not at all.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It had been the first time Bee had been embraced in a very long time. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>But instead of a happy reunion, Beelzebub pulled the woman away, peeled the hands that were lovingly on their scarred face off and shoved them away, both wearing the same face of shock for mere seconds. It was so alarming that Beelzebub cursed Isabella out and all but ran away, hearing their name called out in a plea. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It wasn’t the last time the two met either. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The two continued, as though Isabella was following Prince around like a puppy to try and gain back the relationship the two once had. But instead, Beelz had warned her to keep away from Little Italy, if not New York as a whole. Told her off to leave the country even, at every damned turn. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>However, Isabel was persistent despite Beelzebub’s harsh reactions, going so far as to threaten their twin cousin at gunpoint on one occasion. This was some weeks after scaling three flights, ripping a pair of pants and being poked fun of with their cousin shouting from below, “not enough you have to be mia bella moscha, you have to insist to be on the walls!” Isabella had been nearly unshakable, and it unnerved the little underworld underboss.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>When Lucifer nearly ran into them, Beelz practically caused a pileup on Pitkin and 84th as they dashed across the street, dragging Isabella into Acacia cemetery. Bee’s heart never rushed that fast in years and they snarled at Isabel through clenched teeth.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You lizzzten to me; you can’t be HERE. You gotta go. I don’t care where but anywhere that’zzz not New York.” Their blue eyes were fierce and cutting but Isabella’s surprise was taken over by a hopeful glean. “Zizz izn’t a joke, Izabel. Ztop fucking around, being zztupid.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Who’s being stupid, stupid? You know me better than that.”  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I don’t know you.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Smettila, muscha.” Hands that felt too much like their own grasped Bee’s shoulders and Isabella was smiling a crooked little smile. “I miss you. And I KNOW you miss me too, Bellz.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Prince glowered at their twin cousin and scouted the area, keeping closer to the shadows of the trees. “You can’t be zeen with me,” They droned, “Ztay the fuck away. That man? You zaw that man, with the golden hair and red zuit, yeah? You zzee him, you hide. You run. Whatever you do, you get the fuck away from him and don’t let him zee you. Promizza zulla mia anima, con ella tuo coure. Promizze!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Bellz...I...Please, I’ll promise if-” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Z’not a negotiatzzion.” They whipped out their wallet and stuffed bills in Isabella's hands. “Take thizz, go home. Keep outta trouble.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They had pushed her so hard, every time. Tried money, physical harm, threats on her family but they could never get the being they wanted to hold tight to to leave. Isabella would smile and say the most ridiculous things back like, “you can’t get rid of me. You know better. And I know you better, you’d never hurt me.” And would continue to tell Bell things about their family. Tried to share photos that Beelzebub would press back into her hands or destroy as soon as they had privacy. It was too dangerous to keep. And yet the person who had been Isabella Verona Prince kept every little bit of given information tucked away in the deepest recesses of their mind. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The very last time had been stressful, Isabella had followed Beelzebub several blocks after spotting them. Bee had actually about-faced and headed down the other end. But it’s difficult to hide from someone who looks just like their reflection with scars and wears things that are socially inappropriate for woman-looking beings of the 40s. Stands out. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I’m getting married, Bee!” She called in chase, “Will you listen?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Not my buzzzzzinezzz.” They droned stomping away, hearing the clip clop clip of rosette pumps hurriedly following. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Don’t you think it may be?” Isabel panted, as she grabbed hold of her cousin’s sharp elbow, “just a little?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“No.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Bell, it kind of is! You’re my-” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Nothing.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Stop that! I’m in love and I want you to meet the man I’m going to marry and I want you to approve of him.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Isabella was still following, and the demon made several faces trying not to roll their eyes. And when their cousin took hold of their shoulder and turned them round, Bell’s lips locked into a pursed grimace. Isabella mimicked them down to the furrowed brow like she used to do when they were children. Followed by puppy dog eyes, hidden by her slightly out of style suiter hat, breaking into a smile. However, Beelzebub didn’t crack like they used to, and it forced Isabella to roll her eyes just in the same way that Beelz still did.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Please, Beez!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You don’t need my approval. You’re an adult.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You say that, but you’re making those judgmental eyes that you make when you’re displeased of someone.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Beelzebub huffed, and Isabella smiled that small, pleased smile. Isabel knew she had won. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“He ever hurts you, you tell me. I’ll have’im dealt with.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Beeee, I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You were scared of the mastiff from down the hall, til we were eight.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“He was bigger than us, until we were eight.” The equally short being declared, making Beelzebub snort. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“What’s he do...thizz bo of yours?” They waved a thin hand about. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“He’s sweet,” Bell rolled their eyes and Isabella glared back, “An artist. Has his own studio, met him that way actually. Posing for him.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Beelzebub made a face, “An artizzt?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“He loves listening to me sing-…Oh! I’m so sorry, mia mosca! I’m sorry! Bells, I...” Isabella took hold of her cousin’s arm, and Bee tensed from the touch and not just the unintended barb. Isabella’s face was stricken with genuine worry and sorrow. She had known singing wasn’t just something Beelzebub could do, but a passion. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The demon shrugged, feigning indifference, “It’zzzz...Forget it. Wot’z’iz name?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Isabella’s eyes roved their twinned cousin, lips pursed in worry in a way that Bell knew they used to do too. “His name’s Johnny Gambino. He’s-” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Gambino?! Fucking Johnny Gambino?! Son of Enzo Gambino? Sei pazzo?!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Yes? Why?” The demon’s angelic twin startled, confused. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Ztay away from the Gambinozz.” They growled. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You can’t tell-” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You told me to give my blezzing and you won’t have it. Not when it’zz to a compare. He’zz dangerouzz.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“So are you!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“And you’re foolizzhly following me too! You’re playing with fire, Izabella. Ztop ziz.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Playing with fire is your-...Dio Santo...”  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Beelzebub’s blood froze. A hand grazed their backside and the owner of the voice that sounded like burnt honey came into view on their left. Isabella tensed along with the little devil, remembering what her cousin had said about THIS red clad man. Seeing the terror etched into their demonic doppelgänger's eyes really hit that Beelzebub had been terribly serious about this man, Isabel felt their fear. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“My dear little bug...who is...this?...” Lucifer clasped Isabella’s hand gently and brought it to his lips, “sei bellissima. Beelzebub, you never told me you had a twin sister?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They both saw the hunger in Lucifer’s eyes and both were on the same wavelength of tension. “Don Mattina, this is Isabella Prince.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Mmmm,” He purred, curious, “we’ll need to arrange for a little get together. Just the three of us, and a bottle of absinthe.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“That is very generous of you, my lord.” Beelzebub got close and was whispering in Luc’s ear, allowing him to wrap his arm around their slight waist. “However, we’ve scheduled several appointmentz with some buckwheat manufacturers over the next few days – you remember the ones – then a meeting on the carpet at the end of next.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I suppose we’ll have to do this another time, then.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“We’ll have to arrange it for some time after Isabella returns to the states.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Returns?” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“She’s only visiting.”  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Their leader looked over his second in command, golden-brown eyes scrutinizing the pair. “Pity...” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I need to return Isabella to her hotel now. She’zz dreadfully lozt.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You must take care of her then.” A hand was on Beelzebub’s ass and the scarred being kept their features completely schooled, looking over their boss and allowed Lucifer his groping.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Beelzebub did take Isabel to a hotel, paid for it, and warned her of what would happen between them should she marry Johnny Gambino, saying, “You would be not only estranged from me, but my enemy. If Lucifer FOUND you and believed me of some conniving plot of working with another familia, he would kill me.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Why work for him, anyway? He clearly scares you, Bella, I know he does!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You wouldn’t underztand. And that izz’all I’ll say to you on the matter. Don’t marry Gambino. Or do and know that we are dead to each other.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“You were dead once, Bells! You keep pushing me away...Don’t make me chose between the people I love.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Don’t be childizh, love is for foolzz.” Beelzebub took hold of their twin cousin’s wrist and shoved another wad of cash in Isabel’s hand. “Leave. Leave him and forget about me. Thizz izz a world you don’t underztand, Izabel.” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I can’t...” She had tears brimming in her eyes and that’s how Bell left Isabell, feeling the pain radiate from her and into their own heart as though they had been born of the same mother. As though their silly stupid joke, turned protection, between parents as being twins was true. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>So, the scene in Isabella’s home was heartbreaking and cruel, hitting them like a subway car with broken lights.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They had dug up where Isabella lived after meeting her again. Bell had memorized it.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The short pale being had rushed into the building; stood outside the room they had scouted once in the dead of night months prior to find it left slightly ajar. They knew they were too late. Somewhere in the back of their numbing mind Beelzebub wondered if this was in part their fault, for allowing Isabel proximity, for following. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>In Bell went, seeing an aged Aunt Ornella first in the hallway with a .380 ACP through the skull, then Frankie Jr and little Lorenzo slumped over on the couch...They looked like they could be sleeping...holding each other, with tear-stained cheeks. Bee could smell the death and shit and piss, but they still went to the two and felt for breath and pulse and cold bodies, waiting enough to know that there was no hope for the little souls. They had never met but Beelzebub saw the resemblance. Saw how much Frankie Jr looked like Marius had. He looked nearly the same age that Marius had died... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The rage and heartache that punctured Beelzebub stung, the devil’s teeth hurt. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A plink plink plink was what drew Bell’s attention behind them to the dark door eclipsed by light. They knew what they would find there but pushed the door open, weapon lazily drawn in hopes that maybe they could spill blood, even though it felt pointless. It was for naught though.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Bee’s blue eyes were met with their twin cousin, laying dead in the tub as they once had too. The small room was empty of all but Isabella and Isabella, the rain pittered against the windows in a sad and macabre symphony. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The damned leftover Prince hurried to their other half’s side but stalled as their lithe hand wrapped around Isabel’s wrist. There was no hope.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Yet they dragged Isabella from the tub, ignored what they knew was already fact, and tried to breathe life into a corpse. They tried and tried, palpitating her chest and trying to give her air from their own lungs, all til they were dizzy. They didn’t know how much time had elapsed, but spots had begun floating in their eyes. Hands and lips froze.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>And Beelzebub had gasped back a wretched sob. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Isabella was ice cold, the water was cold, everything was too cold. Torn clothes were scattered on the floor, saturated with blood and water. That was another difference between their deaths. Beelzebub had been murdered while in the bath while Isabella had been stripped and shoved in, like the others. They knew what he did to his victims, even when they didn’t want to tell where their own nightmare began and the reality stuck. Facts were facts. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Isabella looked near exactly like Isabella once more... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A second angry sob wracked their throat and Bell’s heart clenched.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, down into the street til they found a police box and shouted into the phone that there’d been a murder. Beelzebub didn’t even think to call Leviathan and the switchboard operator try to yell at them to get off the phone box, before Bee shouted that a family was DEAD! They let the downpour wash away the blood from their dark clothes and drown out their tears that fell from their cold dead eyes as they waited to hear the sirens. Watched the boys in blue fuck around, saw Sergeant Shadwell charge up the stairs, his eyes meeting Beelzebub’s for a fraction of a second and the demon saw what looked like pity in the geezer’s blue eyes.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>But Beelzebub felt too numb to notice much more. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It felt like they were a ghost and watching history repeat itself in slo-mo. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>And then Gabriel had shown up. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Had to rush to Isabella’s side after she fell to the cold hard ground and carefully traced the wounds of her face with shaking hands. Held her so intimately and close. It made Beelzebub’s blood boil. When Gabriel wrapped the smaller being up in his trench coat and looked ready to shove the medic that went to touch them away something harsh thud in Beelzebub's heart and the anger clashed with confusion. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>The fuck is that dumb bird doing? Just who the fuck does he think he is?</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>As though he could hear their thoughts, or sense their anger, Gabriel Angelo’s lavender eyes had found Bee and they felt trapped. Gabe’s usually warm olive skin was pale, as though sick, and something else felt to stab into Beelzebub’s chest. They needed to get away. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The demon escaped as soon as those searching purple eyes left them and Beelzebub practically ran back up the stairs, all the way to the sixth floor. As if that nightmare of a place could give them some form of fucking REPRIEVE!  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The squad boys were out or leaving and Beelzebub snuck in.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Into the small tenement that Bell had never been to before that morning, but felt as though it was a place they never left nearly ten years ago. Like they were the one still laying cold and dead in a bathtub that had been so small that even Bee couldn’t lay out without their feet touching the kitchen sink. They had used to do that intentionally to gross out their mother. It would earn a good smack or their mama would playfully pull their foot hard enough to make Bell slip under.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Now it was like the nightmare was back around them and they felt so dizzy, the air around the demon was freezing, as though to try and stop their blood.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The small rooms were too much like the one Beelzebub’s family had lived in had been. The tub was jammed between a wall and a sink, but too much else was similar. Most tenements were. This one was just lucky enough to also have a tub. Bee felt sick.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I fucking told you to stay away!!! WHY COULDN’T YOU LISTEN, ISABEL?!?!</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They backed away from the room they had found Isabella in, quietly shutting the door, and avoided looking over at the couch where they had found their smaller, sweet looking cousins. The somber devil pushed beyond the remaining door into the only other room, finding the mattress and small cot that were clearly set up for a sleep the family would never take, Beelzebub’s own mother had only managed to put their little brothers to sleep on the pallet the three shared on the floor, next to their parent’s bed the night they died. They figured Marius must have dosed off quick, allowing Benny to escape bedtime for just those last moments... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>For a second, Bee remembered how small and warm they had been the night before the murders. Then how Isabella and Isabella used to share a bed sometimes when they were little, holding hands and whispering secrets… </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Prince rummaged around, absentmindedly, uncertain of why they were still there. Then they stumbled on something.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A small red composition book, tucked under one of the pillows. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The lone little shadow had picked it up and opened it to discover it was Isabel’s journal, reading secrets of a woman Bee once considered their sister. The secret spoke of some nonsense first, of moving to America, of meeting Johnny and finding his eyes dark and rich, how Americans were so different, sometimes cruel. It seemed rather harmless and docile, but Beelzebub pocketed it anyway. The next thing they knew was the unsteady click click click of shoes on the hardwood floors and they had their real altercation with Gabriel.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>His confusing attempts at camaraderie further infuriated the made up gremlin and they enjoyed taking a fraction of their anger out on him. But then Uriel and one of their men showed up, and Beelzebub had to escape. Which was why they were now feeling their own blood from a new set of stitch pops, cursing the almighty and their cousin and their own stupidity. They cursed Gabriel and the woeful look on his usually smug-arsed face, looking too pained for Beelzebub’s comfort. The demon shook in the cold and clutched at their wound as they stomped aimlessly through the streets of New York.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Jerameel Angelo and Tio Mattina weren’t even on Beelzebub’s radar anymore.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Does any of it matter anymore? Why had I cared before?...</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The haze from their growing fever, the emotional distress Beelzebub kept fighting back despite the tears already sliding down their cheeks, mingling with the rain that could wash away the blood of their twin cousin but not their anguish, made focus difficult. The demon Prince felt the burn of what Bell barely questioned if it was an infection that had been slowly working its way through their gut or the beginning of a new bruise from slipping that landing and meeting the railing. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A bell tolled and mentally roused the demon as they found themself outside St Paul’s Chapel. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The rain had dimmed the procession of people exiting the car and making their way up to the gates. A lone bride in all white was helped out of the car by the bride’s father. Several of the bride and groom party came rushing over to ensure the pristine white was not sullied, the hems of skirts hiked up and umbrellas held aloft. But the bride-to-be seemed happy. Oblivious that such a terribly cruel act had been committed on another who believed she would be as happy. On a day she wouldn’t get to see... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>It was a gloomy desolate Sunday... </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Despite the pelting, icy, rain this woman was happy and Isabella Vera Prince was dead because some fucker had some weird fetish with brides and to-be’s. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The undead Prince watched the stupid and happy proceedings as the stupid groom was holding his hand out to his bride, covering his eyes to keep from seeing her, waiting for her to come to him.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>A new fiery rage struck in Beelzebub. They were SO ANGRY – the world going on so plainly – that the shaking of their frame was from their emotions and not the cold.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>And suddenly...Prince saw a lone man...staring...just hidden in shadow with his collar hiked around his face to be of coincidence or of the wedding party. Too ominous. Beelzebub stormed across the street, wind whipping at their jacket, caring not for keeping too low a profile, fury fueling them as the diminutive being reached into their jacket for their gun, it didn’t matter and Beelz was forgetful of their state and an irrational mess. Uncharacteristic of the stoic and calculating person they had curated of themself over the near decade. Not once did Beelzebub recognize the improbability of their mysterious murderer taking the same path as their once victim, on the morbid morn of another's murder. </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>They wanted their pound of flesh.  </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Watch out!” </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The last thing Beelzebub saw after getting hit by the little black Cadillac was a shadowy figure phasing in and out of focus in the crowd of shocked faces, Prince trying their hardest to reach for him in anger as consciousness wove and ebbed away from them.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>LOTS going on in this chapter. It’s really mostly back story to explain who Bee is, beyond their near death. Their family background. I wanted to be particular with Bella and Bella. There is a slight joke that Isabella is a common name in Italian, and I wanted to utilize it instead of having the “twins” be two different names (like Beatrice and Isabella) for specific purposes. This is coming from a person who shares the “feminine” form of their father’s, grandfather’s, and older brother’s name. Yeah. I wish I was joking. I also share a birthday with a cousin that our family would parade around like twins. </p><p>If you don’t know much about Italy, twins are seen as fortuitous. Think Romulus and Remus and the She-wolf, and you’ll understand the iconography. </p><p>Italy saw many wars and occupations, fairly steadily, from 1911 up into WWII. And the Portito N4tionale F4scista that was the governing body of Italy from 1921 til it was dissolved in 1943, had several phases (three major ones, two prior to joining hands with the N4zi party) and what I wrote did occur.  </p><p>There is the familial problem of Beelzebub and their cousin NOT being full Italian which, if you remember your history books and what I had made note of in my last chapter, was more than “frowned upon” and even dangerous to be mixed. Their family used their similarities and their features as a ruse for their protection, with implications that Bell’s father wanted to use the children to ingratiate them and then use them to get information. I thought that it would be good to explain their closeness, but also explain their circumstances and reason for leaving Italy. Sidenote: yes Italians can have black hair. I do, my brother and older sister does. My other siblings have blonde hair.</p><p>I hadn’t really planned on showing more about Bee’s sexuality and gender identity, but I thought it was cute to show the sort of secrets they had shared and level of closeness. Bee’s soft innocence in those moments, also revealing that they knew themself enough even then.  </p><p>I was SO excited to be able to show that Bella tried to follow Bell around and reconnect. How Bee reacted, then the subsequent run-in with Lucifer and how easily Isabella could tell Bell was not happy in their position was, noting how Lucifer unnerved them. THEN sharing how Bella had intent to marry someone and Bell’s push against it, with only mentioning one reason why. </p><p>Families, particularly Italian ones, were extremely close knit (as you can see from Gabe’s). My elder family lived on one street and we were often with them. But also, at this time in history, women-like folk would not have often left their parents’ house til marriage. And marriage sometimes didn’t happen until a person’s 25-30s, which would mean Bee’s cousin was not an old maid yet. </p><p>I tried to be delicate with the murder and mentioning any gore, trying to keep the children as untouched as possible but wanting to show Bee’s reactions. The caliber I mention used on Ornella is a real bullet, it was used in the 40s for the mafia with a particular popular Italian gun that I will share later.  </p><p>This is essentially how I’d imagine Bee’d dress: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/171770173267289464/ </p><p>And how I’d imagine Isabella would: https://ar.pinterest.com/pin/480759328943249190/ </p><p>To describe how the two roughly look. Bee would be so dandy and Bella would be cute and chic. </p><p>The type of hat I referenced for Isabella is the 1944’s Suiter hat from Sweden: https://glamourdaze.com/2017/12/1940s-hat-styles-from-1940-to-1945.html </p><p>https://glamourdaze.com/2019/01/vintage-1940s-womens-shoes-then-and-now.html </p><p>Italian, LGBTQA, &amp; 1940s Lexicon </p><p>Cazzo di merda = Dickfaced piece of shit! </p><p>Portito Nazionale Fascista = the PNF. They were the fascist party of Italy, created by Benitto Mussolini, from 1922 to 1943. They signed a treaty of cooperation with N4zi forces in 1936. </p><p>Nonni materni = Mother’s parents. </p><p>Mia bella muscha = my beautiful fly. </p><p>Smettila = Knock it off! </p><p>Promizza zulla mia anima, con ella tuo coure = Promise on my soul, in your heart. </p><p>Sei pazzo = You crazy </p><p>Dio Santo = Good lord. </p><p>Sei bellissima = you’re beautiful. </p><p>Buckwheat = A vengeance murder involving torture. </p><p>Carpet = A meeting of bosses. </p><p>Stoolie = an informant </p><p>PLEASE let me know what you think, all feedback is appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Many Meetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelz finds themself in the hospital, wholey unprepared for their next untimely encounter. </p><p>Meanwhile, Gabriel is beating himself up over the attrocity that’s transpired, equally unprepared. </p><p>What trouble is to be expected next?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: </p><p>There is misgendering in here because this is the late 40s and people don’t often know about/recognize non-binary identity. And since they might not have anything available on the Doe that they carted in from a car accident (as ID’s weren’t carried around often and Bee probably WOULDN’T have and Hospital workers wouldn’t recognize mobsters like cops would), they would go on assumption after undressing them and treating whatever needed to be treated (like those worrisome stitches). </p><p>Mentions of needles. Small bit of violence at the very beginning. Dead bodies and taking from the dead. I think that’s it. </p><p>I didn’t have issue with the first third of this, when it moved into the office space I was a little shaky and the last was clunky. I had to do MAJOR work to get it where I liked.  </p><p>I hope you do enjoy this, I know I’m working at it far harder than maybe I should, but I’m doing the thing I started by accident.  </p><p>Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.</p><p>Special shout-out in this chapter to Momo! I just have to dedicate this moment to you, you made that comment and then I ran away with it and put it halfway down the last half of this chapter. This one’s for you, dear!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beelzebub startled awake.</p><p>Then cringed, clutching their stomach wound and head. They felt like they’d been hit by a car. Then remembered they HAD been hit by a car. Bell’s whole body hurt, but not as much as their head, remembering the crack of it on concrete after bouncing off of said car.</p><p>They vaguely remembered a veiled bride in white enveloped in the glow of a church on a gloomy morning with a shadow of a man ghosting in the crowd of onlookers and reality collapsed around the tiny being on the hospital bed.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck!</em>
</p><p>Isabella was dead, every last member of their family they knew was DEAD. And yet somehow Bell Prince had managed to survive a fucking car accident the day the rest perished, chasing ghosts like a moron.</p><p>They wasted no more time throwing back the sheets and slim bare legs over the side. A nurse came to Beelzebub’s side and took hold of their bare arms, “Miss! Miss! Please! You’ve had an accident and need to rest!”</p><p>“Get off me!”</p><p>“Miss, you’ll only-someone help!”</p><p>Beelzebub punched the woman in the face, pushed her aside and tore out the needle from their own arm. A burly orderly came to overpower Beelz, but he didn’t know the demon he was dealing with and a swift kick to the groin brought him to his knees. Prince dashed under the arms of the second only to be grabbed by the scruff of their hospital gown.</p><p>“Your stitches aren’t healed!” The first nurse shouted, “restrain her!”</p><p>However, despite being strong the slight being had advantage of skill over the orderlies. Bee had stepped up on the lower bar of the bed, up the next, and barreled knee first into their attacker’s chest. They both went tumbling. Another punch to the orderly, then one into the gut of the first, and Bee was sprinting away.</p><p>They tore down two corridors, then started to walk trying to level their breathing, slipping silently down a corridor into the side stairs. Bee didn’t recognize the place but the beds lining the hallway with half-cognizant patients, some tied to their cots, gave a clear enough idea. Figuring Bell’s own state and appearance, the little demon figured it was Bellevue, just a few streets away from St Paul’s. They’d need to get out to the park surrounding the building and blend in, Bee just needed clothing.</p><p>Down the stairs they went, trying to look as inconspicuous as one with a body made of scars and bandages could make themself in a mental hospital.</p><p>Down, trying to find a door that didn’t lead out to the wards, where they risked geting caught. Beelzebub made motions to loudly open a door, hearing shouts above, and slipping over the railing across from it with greater ease than their mishap in the rain at Knickerbocker. Down they went…into the basement.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>They sprinted through a new door, hoping for sanctuary. Maybe even a laundry chute to scale up. A ding of an elevator sent them into the one room with a green light above it.</p><p>The morgue.</p><p>What Beelzebub expected was anything but what they encountered. Laid out on the tables…was Isabella Vera Prince and her family.</p><p>
  <em>No...</em>
</p><p>Someone had left her uncovered from shoulders to the dried curly crown of her head. Isabella’s skin was as marred as Bell’s own, but she looked just as lively as they did. Or moreso Bell looked as deathly pale as Isabel. Her blood already pooling from the weight of gravity’s rule. The mortician had made no new incisions to Isabel’s once alabaster frame, but there would be soon.</p><p>Out of the corner of Beelzebub’s eye, they spied the toe tag, certain of what it would say.</p><p>Her name. DOB/DOD/COD. Case number. But that was it. No descendant listed, no one to forward claiming to. Bee knew what would happen from there, the same thing that happened to their own half of the family. Isabel and hers were to end up on Hart Island, in a mass unmarked grave, sooner than the police could link the two together.</p><p>
  <em>But the Shadow must have...</em>
</p><p>“I’m zo zorry, mia bella farfalla...”</p><p>They took her hand in their own, kissed it and brushed back Isabella’s curls, like Bee had wanted to do the instance they’d been found by Isabella. Beelzebub wanted to curl up by her side and go to sleep, like they used to. Pretend like none of this had ever happened and the two never had parted.</p><p>Their parents never quarreled to make them separate, Bell never met Vicco, Isabella never came to America and never met Johnny Gambino. Or if God or the Devil continued to force them to walk this path, that they would take Bella’s last breath and a coroner would come in to find the twin cousins laid out on the same table; let them die on the same day too.</p><p>But none of that was fucking going to happen, and Beelzebub was going to keep on living. Alone.</p><p>Beelzebub unwound and wound their slight hands around Isabel’s, feeling her coldness. They pressed their lips once more to their cousin’s now matching hand, to say good-bye for good and leave, but was brought up short when they realized that the shimmer that glimmered wasn’t only from Isabella’s gold and studded engagement ring. It was the one Beelzebub hadn’t paid attention to on their own hands since Bee’d woken up; on the finger that was said to be connected to the heart.</p><p>The Shadow’s victim that had survived found one on their own. One that had been on Beelzebub’s anulare back when they had presented themself to the world only as Isabella Vernona Prince near ten years prior. The one that had been given to them by the man they had loved. The same they had placed on their parents’ dresser after they’d returned from The Savoy, heartbroken and telling their father to sell it.</p><p>“Fuck me.”</p><p>Their rage superseded everything else and Beelz came back to their senses.</p><p>“Fuck all of thiz.” They snarled, storming over to a bin with discarded clothing.</p><p>They picked out things that were without stains and innocuous enough to go unnoticed. Prince found a dusty rose colored crepe dress, long sleeves and long pleated skirt. Threw it on quickly, tearing off the bandage at zir head. They needed things to cover and get them warm, finding a wide-brimmed hat in a discard bin and a pair of slightly damaged gloves to help obscure more. Beelzebub was lucky to discover a pair of kitten heels that weren’t that much bigger, and a clean, long green women’s coat about their size.</p><p>It felt odd to wear a dress, Beelzebub hadn’t since they could barely remember when...They angrily bit back a sob and cursed the fucker who destroyed everything that had held any significance for them and made their old promise new.</p><p>A plan was formulating in the demon’s brain as they took the engagement ring off Isabella Vera’s finger and confidently stormed out of the morgue.</p><p>********************************</p><p>Gabriel had gone through stages of denial.</p><p>He felt guilty. Which was extremely bizarre considering he was feeling guilty towards an enemy. Someone Gabriel was planning to straight up kill one day. Then reasoned it was because he hadn’t tried to warn Beelzebub and because of that, Bee’s seemingly innocent cousin paid the price.</p><p>Remembering just how much alike the two looked made Gabriel feel like he’d flipped his wig.</p><p>As soon as he’d seen Michael, Gabe gave her every bit of information he could to get more information on Isabella VERA Prince and her relation to Beelzebub.</p><p>“I want to know where this kid was from. Her connections to the Gambino’s. I’ve already asked Sam to look out for Johnny’s body, that’s who the bird was going to get hitched to.”</p><p>“Gabe, dove, what on earth is going on with you? Uriel said you were a mess.”</p><p>“Something happened, Mikey. Someone is screwing with me and this time he’s really fucked me up.” Gabriel growled, quietly.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“The...the Shadow. He’s been leaving me notes...before each murder.” He scratched his head, unable to look at his sister. “This time, thought he left me another warning about Beelzebub – I had gotten theirs too, after Gracie – which was why I asked if you had looked up anything new on Prince...Turned out that it was their sister. Or cousin. I’m not even fucking sure because they wouldn’t tell me anything at the crime scene.”</p><p>“You saw them? Why would-”</p><p>“We’re connected...Bee and me...because of this business with this schmuck...And this last card...”</p><p>“Spit it out!”</p><p>“I thought he was going after them again! Instead, it was a look-alike! I tried to-…"</p><p>“No...”</p><p>“I tried to warn them, I didn’t want to believe it, but now the damage is done. And-”</p><p>“Gabriel-”</p><p>“Mike, I need help with this now, or this fucker’s never gonna stop haunting us…I don’t wanna go year to year wondering when’s my next letter from him and have no clue as to, ‘why?’ I don’t want someone innocent to die knowing I could have done something.”</p><p>“Dove, Beelzebub and their family are not innocent.” Michael put a hand on her brother, far gentler than she had the day before.</p><p>“That don’t mean anyone deserves this!” He slapped a file on the table, contents spilling out to show the dead, “not even Beelzebub deserved this…and now he’s basically fucked them twice! And keeps fucking me over by rubbing it in my face with how I can’t do anything about it. Not for Beelzebub! Not for this Isabella! Not for Gracie!” He scrubbed his face and threw his broad frame in the chair, silent. “He’s still out there. Mocking all of us.”</p><p>Michael’s usually cool gaze dropped, pitying her brother, “none of this is your fault.” She took hold of him again, “a letter means nothing.”</p><p>“But it means I’m aware. I could have-”</p><p>“It means he’s playing with your head, dove, you know this.”</p><p>“Well, he’s doing a great job of making me believe otherwise.”</p><p>Her younger brother’s despondency radiated the room, and Michael couldn’t help but feel bad. There was nothing of his usual bullshitting attitude present.</p><p>“I don’t know how digging into Beelzebub Prince’s family is going to help but...I’ll see what I can find...”</p><p>“Thanks, boss.” Gabriel pressed his lips together before looking up at her, “when the other’s get here, keep that part secret? I don’t want everyone to know everything.”</p><p>Michael raised a fine pencil-thin eyebrow and nodded.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>A knock on the door and Uriel was asking if Gabe was ready for them and Sandalphon. That meeting Gabriel said he’d let them in a little. One where they were going to dig up every old file the police department might have had on the ‘Mafia Shadow Crimes,’ as they were dubbed, locating burials, and even going into the murdered bride’s extended families. Easily including their own lost.</p><p>“Uriel, if you could get Scheim’s parents and Uncle Yorhi in here. I’d like to ask them what else they may have remembered, if anything. I know it’s been a while. Sandy, do you have the status on Zira’s headcount? I still want to make sure all our little duckies are in a row.”</p><p>“Sure do, boss.” They each answered, before Sandalphon continued.</p><p>Halfway through the meeting, Gabriel found a note. Sat carefully on top of everything else in his middle drawer, glaring at him. It had most definitely not been there prior, and the drawer had been locked. Gabe had the only key. But he knew from the way it was folded, this wasn’t from the Shadow. Every card he had sent to Gabe had been red, this one was regular legal notepad paper.</p><p>Without missing a beat, he tucked it away in his pocket to read the moment he was alone which wasn’t for several hours with everything else Gabriel had to attend to. Even if the Shadow could rock the entirety of the Underworld with his murders, business was still business.</p><p>Written on the paper was:</p><p>
  <strong>No-Man’s Land</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> 116th </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> Tonight </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> 3 am </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> Alone </strong>
</p><p>If it weren’t for the timing and the little photo hidden between the folds of the paper – the one he had seen in the fly locket – Gabriel would have brushed it off or maybe went suited up with a crew. However, that photo of Isabella and Bella stayed him.</p><p>For whatever reason, Gabriel knew that this was not a regular summons nor trick. Whether it meant they would meet him, or the meeting was about them, Gabriel Angelo would go.</p><p>*******************************</p><p>Later into the witching hour of the night, the little demon of the Mattina family wasn’t sure if the other fucker would actually show. Whatever the case, they figured Gabriel, if anything, would be punctual. His notorious habit would make it easy to know if he was coming or not.</p><p>At three AM sharp, Gabriel Angelo was before Beelzebub. They watched him travel the last bit of stairs from the shadows of the trees, the rain dulling the sounds of New York’s nightlife; in turn making it easier to dampen talk with less people around.</p><p>They sized each other up, both certain the other’s eyes were catching the streetlights with unearthly illumination.</p><p>Without saying a word, Beelzebub gave the slightest of nods and started off ahead of Gabriel into the darkness. Angelo, either because of his surprise that it was indeed Beelzebub, his need to know, or the fact that the demon bared their back to their opponent willingly, followed without a word.</p><p>They’d never intentionally met one-on-one, almost never without their respective backup. It would be safer to assume that Gabe would have some compare or three tailing them and Bee could have one of their legion hiding in some dark tree line waiting to ambush him once they got him right where they wanted. But both believed after that day that it wasn’t going to be the case.</p><p>Both secretly holding onto what the other had to say was keeping them in check.</p><p>The messenger had a marginal amount of information of what went on in Beelzebub’s morning – unaware of their accident and hospitalization – being none the wiser, though their suit had been changed out for a black three-piece. Their coat had a fur trim to the collar and looked pleasantly warm, better at hiding their bruises. A crimson red and spearpoint collared shirt, a fly pendant for their black cravat. They wore a ‘women’s’ homburg on their crown, but that and their wild hair did not hide the bandage wrapped around their head. He couldn’t tell how armed Prince was, but knew they were probably armed as well as Angelo.</p><p>He brushed it off, keeping at the ready for a potential trap. Gabriel wasn’t as foolish as he pretended.</p><p>Drawing his wool jacket closer, ignoring the fact that one of his trenchcoats was in a morgue with the very likeness of the being before him like some sort of makeshift shroud, Gabriel followed Beelzebub onward. The cold rain had not let up since the morning and still meant to freeze.</p><p>“Enough of this, Beelzebub. What’s so important you needed to drag me out in the middle of the night.”</p><p>They halted. Already eerily quiet, he couldn’t even tell if they were breathing for no air rose from them though he could see his own clearly in the scant light. He began to wonder if maybe this demon <em>was</em> a ghost. Then they started talking.</p><p>“I’ve pondered your proposal and I believe your idea has some...merit...” Beelzebub grit their teeth, “I believe a deal should be struck.”</p><p>Gabriel scoffed, his sharp laugh sarcastic, “You’re kidding me? A deal?” He looked around at their darkened crossroads they were on and gave a dark chuckle, “An angel and the devil meet at a crossroad...for a deal? Sounds like a scary story or the start of a bad joke.”</p><p>That got them to grunt and turn to face him, not hiding their frustrations.</p><p>“Zod off, with your bullshit. Thizz izz zzeriouzzz-Umph. Serious, Gabriel. I want to make a deal.”</p><p>Gabriel’s eyebrows tried to reach his perfectly coifed hair, despite being mentally ambushed and abused today, his hair hadn’t strayed far from his usually perfect pompadour. It curled at the front, bowing to physics from the rain. His mouth tight with that feigned smile. “Okay. <em>Prince Beelzebub.</em>”</p><p>“Can’t zztop taking the pizz out’ta thingzzz. Haz to be a fucking ponze.” They grumbled, shaking zir head, and started to storm off.</p><p>
  <em>Fucking stupid me!</em>
</p><p>Gabriel followed, “what did you wanna meet for?”</p><p>“Forget about it. Go fuck yourzzelf.”</p><p>“Listen here you little shit; I got more important things to do than be led on’a bug chase by the likes of you.” Angelo impatiently growled out.</p><p>“Like I don’t? Really are full of yourself.”</p><p>“Hold up, Dollface.” He dashed to get in front of the small fiery being, hands up, “I’m here, aren’t I? Now what are you talking about? What proposal did I give that’s got you breaking into MY office, like the little ghost that you are, and leaving me love letters for clandestine meetings?”</p><p>From under the streetlamp they stood under, the leader of the Angelo family was able to see Bee’s wane face better. The paleness he’d spied earlier seeming worse. But their eyes were so very sharp. Those piercing blue eyes left his to check left then right, before zeroing in on Gabriel again and tacitly nodding their head for him to follow.</p><p>Down the park path, led on by a demon, Gabriel followed; passing the statue of a young pan with his pan flute hiding from a bear, almost to the pond with the weeping willow trees, until they reached the Bethesda Arcade, it’s beautiful tile walls and arched gold gates a beacon in the dark. Slipping like the little shadow they were, Beelzebub passed into the darkness.</p><p><em>Be not afraid, Gabriel. It’s only Beelzebub. The little monster who’s been wanting to put a hole between your eyes, since they met you.</em> He sardonically bit at himself before following them past the point of no return.</p><p>On the inside the cavernous room felt empty, the air heavy though colder with only the tiles to refract it. Bee apparently only intended to get them out of the rain. It would make a good spot to talk, without being spied and less of a chance of catching a cold. That is if Beelzebub’s harsh glare didn’t do that job for the weather first.</p><p>“You were right; we both want the same thing. This fucker caught and dead.” They said without preamble, burying their hands deeper into their pockets, hand on their gun. “We should work together.”</p><p>“Thaaatt’sss not what I said. At all. And last time you were more adversarial than usual, Beelz. What’s made you so willing to work with me now?”</p><p>Their jaw shifted, brow furrowing. Whatever Beelzebub was about to say appeared to feel like a great weight. “Enemy of thine enemy, and all that bullzhit.”</p><p>Gabriel stood there for a full minute, trying to evaluate what they were proposing.</p><p>He knew that Beelzebub Prince never made dealings with anyone lightly, and nothing across their unseen forsaken boundary between families without Lucifer’s consent at some form of sit-down between families. Their buzzing agitation paired with leery suspicion told that this was secret.</p><p>Gabriel didn’t even know if they’d looked more into the Shadow’s attacks as he had, or if this was just a case of revenge for Bell. Angelo didn’t want to assume more, despite how they wore that bastard’s handywork more cruelly than the Scarlet Letter as they had feigned indifference so well for YEARS. “Kay. I’ll have copies of what I have sent over to you-”</p><p>“Not what I’m proposing, pigeon, keep up.” They moved to stand before Gabriel, all their very short feet and inches making them look up. However, it didn’t diminish their commanding aura, “I’m meaning...we lay bait for him.”</p><p>Gabriel’s scrunched up his face, disgusted, “well, I’m not risking any of my family to lure him out-”</p><p>“Not just anyone, Gabriel.” They crossed their slight arms over their chest and leveled him with an ensnaring gaze, “You.”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“And Isabella Prince.” Beelzebub’s starry blue eyes monitored him, seeing if it would click. But to no avail. His eyes went wide and was shaking his head, hands wide.</p><p>“What do you mean, exactly?”</p><p>“Unless you are really azz zlow-witted azz you make yourself out to be, I’m meaning take my couzin under your protection and use the developing relationship azz bait.”</p><p>“Uuuhhhmmmm,” Gabriel’s face was scrunched up. He knew what had gone on with Bee’s cousin – at least Gabriel thought he did – he held her corpse in his arms. Then he worried that maybe the dark-haired demon had lost a bit of their mind over their misfortune, “She’s dead, Beelzebub.”</p><p>“Not everything is as it seems. And death is in the eye of the beholder and a death certificate. She lives. In me.”</p><p>Gabriel’s face scrunched again and he shook his head. More concerned. “That’s...nice?...”</p><p>“It’s useful.” Bell huffed, knowing he wasn’t getting it. “You said so yourself, he’ll come back for what he wants. One day. And I still believe you were a mistake.”</p><p>“Jee, thanks.” Gabe snorted, sarcastically.</p><p>“You were left relatively unscathed, and I believe there was a reason for that, Gabriel.”</p><p>At this, Beelz did reach over to him, careful hands smoothing out his fine dove gray jacket, stilling Gabriel to watch every move, every change of Bee’s facial muscles and feel of thin hands pressed softly against his body.</p><p>“So, you’re perfect...”</p><p>The way their words enunciated from off their lips and tongue was mesmerizing, the words intoxicating in temptation. But Gabriel had no clue what Beelzebub was trying to get at.</p><p>“You flirting with me, Dollface? Didn’t have to wait for a murder to ask me to go steady.” He husked out, peering down his nose at them before taking hold of their hands and keeping them from roaming anywhere else. They were distracting him and taking his control and Gabriel did NOT like that. As expected, both pushed the other’s hands away. “Look. I don’t understand, you’re gonna have to spell out for me what’s going on in that madcap little head of yours.”</p><p>They stormed away, putting distance between them, pivoting round to face the angel of death. “How badly do you want to snuff that little twat out, Gabriel?”</p><p>“Oh, I want to. More than anything.”</p><p>“More than me?”</p><p>They stared at each other for a long hard minute and Gabriel evaluated the words of the being that infuriated him with their existence.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then work with me. We set bait with what he could not touch and kill.” Their blue eyes grew dark, “Make up a rouse with me; I’ll be my mutilated cousin and you be the doting hero you wish you could have been.”</p><p>“Beelzebub!” He growled, hands turning to fist, but Bell held up their slight hand to still him, a stigmata scar revealed.</p><p>“We play a pretend he can’t resist. You, his untouchable, and me, one he’s touched, and we play his game til he comes after us. Pretend.”</p><p>“What are you even talking about?!” He threw his hands up, “I’m not doing anything with you! Our crews would NEVER allow such stupidity.”</p><p>“Courze not. Thing is, ‘love,’ you’ll be doing things with ‘Isabella Vera Prince.’ My demure, soft cousin. A non-affiliate. SHE is free to go where she pleases. And now Isabel’s alone, free for you to swoop in and make her yours.”</p><p>“She has you.”</p><p>“She’s actually dead, Gabriel, I was inferring that I pretend to be Isabella.”</p><p>“I’m aware, Bee.” He tried not to shove his hands in his still sealed pockets of his pants– it would never keep the pant shape if he indulged – and scrubbed his mouth before running his hand through his hair, raising his fedora and spilling rainwater down his neck causing a sobering shock. “Look. This idea of yours is totally bananas. No one’s going to believe you’re Isabella. Even if you manage to pass, why wouldn’t she go to you? Or the Gambino’s?”</p><p>Beelzebub shifted, mouth forming a line, “you know they wouldn’t claim her, you-...Zhe would go with zzzomeone-someone she grows to trust, someone that goes out of their way to <em>protect</em> her. Someone like you...” They sneered.</p><p>Gabriel did NOT know what to make of this information and his eyes went wide, then he started to shake his head. “Uh-uh. Nope, sweetheart. You’re crazy. This won’t work and I want no part of this crackpot plan of yours.”</p><p>“Gabriel-”</p><p>“No one would BELIEVE this, Bee!”</p><p>“That’s why it will work.”</p><p>“You want me to swing in and-and what? Rescue you-Isabella?! She’s dead. And you’re already maimed. There’s nothing to do about it, dollface.”</p><p>“Pretend, mezzzzenger. Pretend to-”</p><p>“To what?! We’ve been shooting each other full of holes since we met, this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, and you want us to pretend-”</p><p>“Pretend you fall in love with Izabella Vera Prince. Yes.” They said with such quiet, stern conviction Gabriel had to look them over again to make sure he hadn’t gone certifiable. “We tempt him out with someone like you and Izabella. Two people he wasn’t able to kill-”</p><p>“He did kill her though, Bell. This is crazy!”</p><p>“We make him believe that he was unsuccessful. Again. Make all zee that you, unlike others, took pity and bonded with her...over zzhared trauma.” Gabriel shook his head again as Bee sped along, “It will work, Gabriel. You and I can make zizz work.”</p><p>“He’d know it’s you.”</p><p>It was Beelzebub’s turn to shake their head, slowly, eyes piercing Gabriel’s, “You didn’t...”</p><p>“For a few minutes. I know you. And he probably knows you better than all of us. It won’t work.”</p><p>“Truzzt me?”</p><p>“If what you said BEFORE wasn’t nuts, that right there certainly is, Beelz.” He was practically imploring, hands wide, “We TRY to KILL each other! On SIGHT!”</p><p>“I trust you and your want of heavenly wrath, angel.” Bell was looking directly into Gabriel’s soul again, “Had you known an innocent such as Isabella needed you, someone, unjaded, who understood his nightmare, you would have gone to her. Tried to protect her. That will tempt him out with someone like Isabel.”</p><p>“I didn’t before...”</p><p>An unexpected weight settled between the two; otherworldly eyes keeping the other captive. One laced with guilt and the other with something lavenders couldn’t read.</p><p>“You can now...”</p><p>“...Fine...” Gabriel’s mouth disobeyed, shocking him, “But I don’t know what to make of this. Also how are you going to fool everyone? You’ve got old scars, he just cut your cousin to ribbons, never mind her body’s hanging around.”</p><p>“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll handle all that.” Bell was already plotting course. Now that Gabriel said yes, Bee would have to act fast to beat the coronor.</p><p>“And just how long are we running around playing...beauty and the beast?”</p><p>If looks could kill...“As long as it takes. We won’t be together always; have work to do, you and I. Regular appearances to keep up.”</p><p>“Sooo you’ll only be my sweetheart for a few hours a day and shoot each other up like normal? What? We have office hours? That seems a little pointless,” Gabriel leaned close, needing sparing to fall back on after one of the most conflicting moments of his life prior, “why not just ask me for a date?”</p><p>“During most of the day, with minor exceptions, we will ‘see’ each other, then retire...to your place.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“He needs to believe that you are interested in Isabel. Taking her home with you after she leavez the hospital is key to this farce. She’ll have nowhere elzze to go.”</p><p>“Bullshit.” He threw a hand up, “I’m not taking my enemy of enemies to my fucking house, ‘dear.’”</p><p>“I’ll not hurt you while playing Isabella. You have my word.”</p><p>Gabriel snipped, “Yeah, that’s believable. From you, of all people...” He bumped a few paces, back and forth and stopped when he saw the raw imploring need the little demon was hiding behind their eyes. “Okay, your majesty, let’s say I do this, why is this really important to tricking him? Wouldn’t it seem inappropriate for us to shack up together? He only wants innocent brides and bride-to-be's. You are neither and Isabella will look less so if she’s staying with me.”</p><p>“Becauzzzee...you’ll be playing at strong and endearing protector and gentleman when she has no one left to turn to.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, disbelief had become a solid feature in his expression, “And then you will marry her.”</p><p>The head of the Angelo family startled. Then laughed and nodded, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “OH! You didn’t just want a date; you wanted the full-course meal! You’re a gas. Should’ve done comedy.”</p><p>“Would you juzzzt lizzzten, you great big tit!” They snarled, “It’zzz like you’ve never run a zzcam in your life! We pretend we’re in love – like he likes hizz victims-”</p><p>“You’re not my type.”</p><p>“She’ll <em>become</em> your type.”</p><p>“You’re not his type-”</p><p>“That’z WHY I need you. Zhe needz you. Zhe’s modezzt and zweet and kind. Zhe’ll be wounded but with you, zhe will prezent azz zomething far more tantalizing than any of thiz fucker’z previouzz victimzz...”</p><p>“And what’s that?” Gabriel asked, truly curious at this point.</p><p>“The most vulnerable prey with a radiant protector.”</p><p>The Don of the Angelo family didn’t know why, but in the back of his head he felt that what Beelzebub said was indisputable...and a little warm under the collar. Like they had been trying to insinuate, a precious artifact that one like the Shadow liked to toy with, someone weak and frightened – becoming dependent on another who’s faired his attentions, however scarce – and easy to manipulate, that returned from the ‘dead,’ so to speak, for more torment in his sick game would seem irresistible. Gabriel didn’t know of the games the Shadow played with Beelzebub. The Shadow wouldn’t be able to leave the soon-to-be pair alone, just as Gabriel hadn’t been for all these years just as unknowingly Beelzebub hadn’t been free of the same plight either.</p><p>“Keep your news radio on, follow the story that will unfold. You’ll know when to come to me.”</p><p>Gabriel took a deep, deep breath and held it, “what about Lucifer and your people?”</p><p>“We are the only ones to know anything about our deal.” They shifted ever so slightly. “It wouldn’t do for either of us to get caught fraternizing.”</p><p>Uncertainty was starting to set in again and Gabriel’s hands were active, “Beelzebub, you gotta listen to yourself and hear the crazy. Why me? Really. I can’t help but feel like you’re blowing smoke up my ass.”</p><p>“Because you make it just as tantalizing as Isabella would. You know-”</p><p>“I don’t know shit about this!”</p><p>“You know! He may not have killed you, but you know...And you understand his work. Whether you wish to admit it or not, he’s had power over you this whole time.” Their brow arched, eyes accusing, “Had you hunt him, like a mad man.”</p><p>“Alright” He tsked, trying not to pace, looking back to ask, “why now? Why never you?”</p><p>“That should be obviouzz; Isabella gives uzz the opportunity that I didn’t,” their words didn’t sit well with Gabriel, “having it look like she survived is how we’ll lure him. He stayzz-” They shut their mouth, ducked their head, and put their hands on their hips, the first sign that Bee was truly deeply disturbed, and Gabriel waited to hear what they would say. “He zztayed before...for me...for only a short while, I think to zzee if I would zurvive after they brought me back.”</p><p>Gabriel didn’t move, he’d never heard what had happened to Beelzebub after and wanted to know as much as they were willing to dish out. “What happened?”</p><p>But a shake of their head was all Bee gave up, “He stayed for you, too – z’why I know it has to be you.”</p><p>The eyes that came back to him were sharper than expected, determined. The little demon took one step closer. Gabriel realized in that moment, even with their face stern and harsh as always, that Beelzebub was trembling. A moment, an undercurrent of nerves beginning to pulse, and Gabriel was trying to brush off a long-forgotten tension. “There’s no way to know that. You’re over-”</p><p>“You have a mark, a scar, in a place no one else gets to see...It’s almost like a branding...Got it when you were injured enough to knock you out, or zomething like that.”</p><p>Gabriel started to feel hot, like one does when stuck or trapped and panic starts to set in. Their cool blue gaze and words used to inflict it. Sweat started to form down his back and his jaw clenched.</p><p>“Weren’t touched anywhere elzzze. Matter of fact, you probably didn’t know you’d been cut. Not til maybe your shock wore off and you noticed the blood.”</p><p>The messenger who wanted to deny this was glaring but could not shake off the need to swallow.</p><p>“You do have one...don’t you?” It was like a sucker punch to Gabriel’s core.</p><p>“Come on! You say he marks his surviving victims, why would you think he’d mark me? He never touched me-Hell! He left me and took-…”</p><p>“He marked me when he found the opportunity and I find it highly unlikely that he’d leave you alone, completely...”</p><p>“He never touched me...He killed everyone else, but not-”</p><p>“But he did,” they stated with certainty now, “Isabella gives us BOTH a chance to catch the bazztard. Help me.”</p><p>The facts tumbled around in Gabriel’s brain against his will. The messenger’s gaze involuntarily went down to Prince’s abdomen, afraid of what now he realized was undeniable.</p><p>“Wouldn’t that mean you can’t stand in for Bella?”</p><p>“Been ten yearzz. Faded. Where it iz, itzz hard to zee.” They knew they weren’t wrong now. “Yours too.”</p><p>One last ditch attempt to not fall in with the demon, he changed train of thought and wrested his eyes from Beelzebub’s pelvic region. “What about your normal scars? They aren’t exactly new, Dollface. I’m not wrong, he’ll notice if he’s going to get close enough to mark you.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that, messenger boy. Won’t know the difference.”</p><p>He stared down at them and shook his head. After a long hard look at the diminutive being before him, Gabriel grit his teeth and shut his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>The fuck am I about to get myself into? </em>
</p><p>“Okay…What’s the plan?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I figured with all the agitations Beelzebub’s stitches have suffered, from the jump, the Savoy fight that I’m going to say was only a week or two prior, then getting their ass beat by Lucifer for failure between, Beelzebub would most likely start to get an infection. This means that they would need medical attention at a time when Penicillin was still fairly new (1941). I had to do a bit of research to figure out what standard protocol would be for administering it, to paint the picture better.  </p><p>Bee’s tough, infections are tougher. I’ve had blood poisoning and infections as a child...I can tell you it’s not pretty and potentially deadly, the 1940s would have been precarious. </p><p>The other thing I had to figure out that took longer was WHERE Bee would be taken. Hospitals earned their frightening reputation, especially if you were middle-low class, being unsanitary and understaffed. A mobster would have that and being paranoid of their surroundings and people on-top.  </p><p>Another thing a lot of people don’t realize is someone who was unidentifiable and looking like Bee could end up in an institution as someone that ‘normies’ would want to hide away. I had to be careful with things. </p><p>So I did a lot of tracking of the NY area and found a place that catered to mental, physical, and emergency needs. Bellevue did, and would take in convicted individuals, abandoned, sick, poor, and the dead as well. The location was close enough to host both Bee for their appearance and proximity and then Isabel as a woman of little means. It suited every purpose. </p><p>https://www.boweryboyshistory.com/2013/05/the-startling-history-of-bellevue.html </p><p>I try to be as careful with my details as I can.  </p><p>Morgues are usually on groundfloor or basement levels.  </p><p>The reallly sad thing is that many unclaimed poor people and families in NY didn’t go to standard Potters fields that could even host their names. Most people in this area would have gone to Hart Island and be dumped in a mass grave:  </p><p>https://www.boweryboyshistory.com/2020/04/the-history-of-hart-island-a-place-of-strangeness-and-sorrow.html </p><p>Bee’s family would have been buried there for their status, if you haven’t noticed how they were all rather poor, despite having well-off or rich fiances.  </p><p>I had Bee steal a ton of discarded clothes while in the morgue, some places would probably be more careful with what they did with the deceased garments though.  </p><p>https://willowhilson.com/collections/new-in/products/vintage-1940s-dress-vintage-1940s-cinnamon-dress-original-1940s-crepe-silk-studded-dress-forties-fashion-1940s-crepe-silk-stud-dress-uk-8 </p><p>Here’s what I envisioned for the first hat Bee stole, hat veils wouldn’t be thick enough to obscure their scars. https://www.poppysvintageclothing.com/collections/vintage-hats-for-women/products/vintage-1940s-wide-brim-straw-hat-with-silk-decoration-flore-deschamps-montreal  </p><p>Then here is the second worn. Halfway down, called a woman’s homburg: https://vintagedancer.com/1940s/1940s-hats/ </p><p>Another little twist I came up with was to have Beelz find their old engagement ring was replaced on their finger. I had debated whether or not they would have gotten one, but as they would have been marrying someone like Vicco Columbo, who was a rich mafia boy, they would have gotten an engagement ring. It came to me very last minute writing out the hospital scene and I REALLY liked that playing out, considering how Gabe got his wife’s back. </p><p>No-Man's Land is Morningside Park. It was established in 1895 and is a very beautiful location, there’s a cliffside with beautiful stone stairs going down. In the 30s-60s there was serious crime going on around there, particularly at night and is when it was started being called “No-Man’s Land,” by many. I figured it would be a good neutral zone for Bee and Gabe to meet, at 116th there is a statue of Charles Schruz that does have a cliffside stair down to the park. https://www.columbiaspectator.com/the-eye/2017/02/28/no-mans-land-morningside-park-and-us/<br/>And here's the statue: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/410460953513913178/</p><p>1940s slang, LGBTQA, &amp; Italian Lexicon </p><p>Anulare = ring finger </p><p>Mia bella farfalla = my beautiful butterfly </p><p>Flipped his wig = gone crazy </p><p>Hitched = married </p><p>Taking the piss = mocking something/someone </p><p>Sit-down = meeting of several families </p><p>Go steady = date </p><p>Madcap = crazy </p><p>Bananas = crazy </p><p>Crackpot = crazy </p><p>Certifiable = crazy </p><p>Blowing smoke up my ass: Complimenting</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos are appreciated.</p><p>I know I write a lot, I'm trying to get better at being more articulate.</p><p>Con-crit is always welcomed.</p><p>Just comments of things you like and don't are also what brightens my day.</p><p>Cheers! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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